Crossing the Border - T
by jneill7677
Summary: Can an American woman help Greg cope with the events that changed his life forever? Or will her own problems be too much for him to bear? (This is the T-rated version of the original M-rated story.)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that comes directly from the show, Flashpoint, whether that be characters or plot. Everything else is mine, however.**

CHAPTER 1

Staff Sergeant Gregory Parker sat alone at a table in O'Malley's Bar and Grill in downtown Toronto. His thoughts were not in the present as he nursed a Diet Coke, both hands holding the glass with his thumbs tracing random patterns through the condensation. He was thinking about how his life had changed since that fateful day eighteen months ago – the day he and his team of SRU officers saved the city from Marcus Faber's bomb spree – the day his life changed forever. As he sat there, he unconsciously rubbed his left leg, just above the knee. He couldn't say that it still hurt, but he was always aware of the injury that had ended his career at SRU.

His mind went back to that disastrous day, and he recalled when he was on the catwalk after the bomb was diffused. He lay on the ground, blood pouring from the wounds in his chest and thigh. He knew it was bad when he tasted blood in his mouth and felt it dribble out from between his lips. The sound of footsteps on the metal resounded in his ears, and he looked up into the end of Faber's handgun. In that moment, he knew he was going to die. He might have saved the innocent that day, but his life was now forfeit. His one regret was that he hadn't been able to spend as much time with Dean as he would have liked. His son had grown up without his father, and now he would have to go through the rest of his life without one as well. As he stared down the barrel of the gun, he sent out a silent "I'm sorry" to Dean. He only hoped that Faber was a good shot and ended it quickly.

He instinctively jumped when he heard the gunshots. It took him a few seconds to realize that Faber had dropped in front of him and was not moving. More footsteps approached, and he heard Eddie's voice, but he couldn't make out what he was saying. He felt Ed pick him up from the ground and hold him in his arms, but he didn't remember much about what happened after that. Ed had told him that he had lost so much blood that everyone thought he was dead. He was unconscious for two days after the shooting, during which time doctors performed two surgeries to save his life – one to repair the internal damage caused by the bullet to his chest, and the other to try to salvage his leg. His life was indeed saved, but his leg was not, at least, not entirely.

The bullet that ripped through his leg had done too much damage to his muscles and nerves for doctors to repair them to the point where he would recover completely. Although he was thankful that he was alive, the ruin of his leg left him with a permanent limp and the need for a cane. The wound had ended his career as an SRU officer, a post he had held for over a decade. He had been forced to retire from the SRU six months ago, and even though he enjoyed his new post as Head Instructor at the Ontario Police College, he missed the SRU more than he cared to admit to anyone. While he knew he would have had to retire some day, most officers got to choose the timing of their retirement. What hurt the most was that he'd had no choice in the matter. His leg simply would not let him do the job he loved.

"Hey, Greg!"

A voice broke his reverie, and he looked up to see Ed, Sam, Spike, and Wordy walking toward the table. The slight smile that crossed his face was a testament to the feelings he had for these four men. They had been the backbone of his team for so many years, and even though only Ed and Spike were still on Team One, they still met with Greg for dinner and drinks every Friday at O'Malley's to talk about their weeks and reminisce about old times.

"Hi, guys," he said as they all dropped into chairs around the table. "How was work today?"

Greg wasn't sure why he continued to ask that question every week. While he really was interested in the other men's lives, every time they recounted something that happened while on the job, an undefinable pain passed through him. Even Wordy, who had been transferred to Guns and Gangs after his diagnosis with Parkinson's, was still actively involved in actual police work, even if it was from behind a desk, and, unlike Greg, Wordy requested the transfer; it wasn't forced on him.

He pushed his musings to the back of his mind, however, as the five men ordered dinner and began to talk about what had happened in their lives during the past week. Ed, Sam, and Wordy told stories of what their girls had done, typically some funny anecdote. Three-year-old Isabel Lane was beginning to talk more and more, and Ed told about how she was fascinated with airplanes. As the Lane family was walking through the park, a jet flew overhead, and Izzy stopped to watch it while excitedly pointing and yelling at the top of her lungs, "A jet, a jet, a jet!" Eleven-month-old Sadie Braddock was beginning to pull herself up on furniture and cruise around it, leading Sam to believe she'd be walking soon. Wordy's three girls were all older, but there were stories for each of them as well. Spike didn't have kids yet, unless you counted Babycakes, his anti-explosive robot, but he had his own stories about what he and Winnie Camden had done that week. The two had been dating for over a year now, and Greg was beginning to wonder if they would marry someday.

As he listened to his friends' tales, Greg felt a little left out. After all, he lived alone, and he had no stories to tell, except for the rare occasion when something out of the ordinary happened at the college. His son, Dean, was at the college, studying to be a Constable, and while he and Greg got together fairly often outside of school, their relationship was not such that much happened that was worth telling about. At school, Greg made sure that Dean knew that he was an instructor, not his dad. He would have had stories to tell about his relationship with Marina, but that wasn't to be. He'd made sure of that.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

After the shooting, Greg fell into a deep depression and pushed everyone who cared about him away. His SRU teammates and Dean knew what was happening, and they did their best to comfort Greg during this dark time. He attempted to get them to leave him alone, but they refused, especially Eddie. Greg was his best friend, and Ed would not let him throw that friendship away. Greg still tried, usually with verbal barbs designed to make the others hate him as much as he hated himself, but with Marina, it became physical one day. About a year after being released from the hospital, not long after his retirement party, Greg hit rock bottom. Although he had been sober for over ten years, he had gone to a local liquor store and purchased a bottle of bourbon. He remembered how the alcohol had allowed him to forget his life before, and he was longing for that oblivion again. The physical pain from his wounds, coupled with the mental pain of knowing he would lose his job and the guilt over the deaths of Donna and Jimmy, caused him to want to block everything out for a good long while. Even though he knew that recovering alcoholics couldn't take even one sip without risking a relapse, he had gotten to the point where he didn't care. When he got back to the apartment he shared with Marina, she was in the living room watching television.

"Hey, babe, where have you been?" she asked sweetly.

"Nowhere," he mumbled, trying to hide the bottle behind his back.

He didn't succeed, however, and Marina saw the bag. She knew that Greg was going through a hard time, and she had done her best to help him through it. He had called her names and had refused to have anything to do with her physically, but she thought she loved him enough that she was willing to wait until he was back to the old Greg who was kind and loving, no matter how long that took. This day, however, that conviction was thrown out the window.

"What's that you're holding, Greg?" she asked, a note of concern in her voice. She knew what a brown paper bag, obviously holding a bottle, usually meant, but she couldn't bring herself to believe that Greg would start drinking again. She knew what his alcoholism had done to him and his family before, and she honestly thought that he would never want to be in that place ever again.

Greg's eyes narrowed, and he decided that this was the time he would finally get Marina to leave him. He hated himself and his life so much that he was determined to rid himself of all vestiges of love. Deep down, he knew that what he was doing was incredibly wrong, but he just wanted all the pain to go away, and Marina's kindness and understanding would not let him forget. He knew, or at least thought, that she would never abide living with a drunk. If she left, then he would be able to wallow in his misery all alone, which was exactly what he wanted.

"What? This?" he asked innocently. He brought the bag out from behind him and pulled the bottle out slowly. "This is a bottle of Evan Williams whiskey. I've never actually tried this particular brand, but the clerk at the liquor store assured me that it is among the best."

"Greg," Marina said warily, "what are you doing with whiskey?"

"I'm going to drink it, of course. There is very little else you do with this fine beverage. I am going to drink this entire bottle until I can't stand up. I am going to drown my sorrows, as they say."

Marina turned off the television with the remote and slowly stood. She took a few steps toward Greg, who was still standing in the open doorway. "Greg, you know that is not the solution…" she began, but Greg interrupted her.

"Really!" he shouted at her, his face turning red and his hand tightening on the neck of the bottle. "Well, then, perhaps you can tell me what the solution is, Marina, because I can't think of another one! This is it! This will make me forget the pain, the guilt, and the memories of that day! I want to forget! I just want to forget!" He punctuated his words with the bottle, holding it out in front of him as if it was a shield between himself and Marina.

"No, Greg," she said softly, walking slowly toward him, "it won't make you forget. Not permanently anyway. You may forget tonight, but what about tomorrow morning? What will you do when the memories come back? Buy another bottle? And what about the day after that, and the day after that? Will you just drink yourself to an early grave? What about Dean? What will this do to him, after all that you and he have done to get him back in your life?" As she spoke, Marina's hand slowly stretched out until it touched Greg's, which had a death grip on the bottle.

At the first hint of her hand on his, he jerked the bottle backwards to keep her from taking it. He pulled it back too quickly and too hard, though, and he was unable to keep his grip on it. The bottle slipped from his grasp, hit the tile by the front door, and shattered. The sharp smell of bourbon instantly filled the air, and Greg looked down at the shards of glass at his feet. Marina stopped in her tracks as she heard an animalistic growl come from Greg's throat, and she took a step backwards as his head came slowly up. The anger in his eyes scared her more than anything else ever had. Even when she had been held hostage, she had not felt this kind of fear, for there was no fury in that situation, merely obsession. Now, however, for the first time in their relationship, she was intensely afraid of the man in front of her.

Before Marina could retreat any farther, Greg's hand shot up and grabbed her by the throat, forcing her backwards until she was up against the couch. He was not grabbing her very tightly, but it was still enough that she couldn't get free. There was nothing in the look he gave her to show that he comprehended what was happening, and the only sound he made was the growl that came from deep in his chest.

"Greg? Greg, what are you doing?" she screamed, frantically trying to pull his hand away from her. His hand tightened slightly, and a cry escaped her throat. "Greg, you're hurting me! Stop it!"

Her words finally penetrated his brain, and his eyes widened in shock as he instantly dropped his arm to his side and staggered backwards. "Oh, God, Marina! I am so sorry! I don't know what came over me," he blurted out. He took one step forward, but she cried out and ran around the couch, placing it between them.

"Don't come any closer, Greg! Don't touch me!"

He stopped immediately and looked down at his hand as if he did not believe that it belonged to him. He dropped to the ground, still staring at his hand, and began to sob. "I am so sorry, Marina, so sorry. I didn't mean it, didn't mean it." He continued to babble out apologies, but Marina had slipped around him, and she ran toward the front door, which was still open. She grabbed her purse off of the small table by the door and ran out, never looking back once.

Greg remained on the ground, his right leg bent underneath him and his left leg sticking straight out in front of him. His head had dropped into his hands, and his shoulders shook with the sobs that racked his body. Greg didn't know how long he stayed on the floor, mumbling incoherently and crying harder than he had in a very long time, but in the end, he knew he needed help. He had never physically assaulted a woman before, not even his first wife, Joanne, during the worst days of their marriage. Attacking Marina was never part of his plan to make her leave; he had simply wanted to get drunk and drive her away. When the bottle dropped from his hand, however, something inside of him snapped. It was as if that last choice of his, the choice to drink until he forgot, the choice to rid himself of Marina's love, had been torn away from him, too.

He didn't stir when he heard footsteps crunching over the glass that littered the entryway, although there were no more tears, and his breathing had calmed to normal levels. He didn't even move when he felt two strong hands grasp his shoulders from behind. He knew it was Eddie; he could tell from both his touch and his cologne, but he stayed where he was, his hands still covering his face.

Ed had gotten a frantic call from Marina while he was at home. It was his day off, and he had been relaxing on the hammock in the backyard. His nineteen-year-old son, Clark was at a friend's house, and Sophie and Izzy were napping upstairs. He had just drifted off to sleep when his cell phone rang. He answered it, and Marina's hysterical ramblings met his ears.

"Ed, you have to help me! Greg…he…hurt me!"

Ed sat up, instantly alert. "Marina? Hey, calm down, calm down. What are you talking about?"

He heard her take a deep breath, and she calmed enough to recount what had happened at the apartment. Ed felt like a vice was squeezing his chest as she told him about the whiskey; he knew the consequences if Greg began drinking again. Dread filled him, however, when Marina spoke about how Greg had grabbed her. He had never known the Boss to be a violent man, and the fact that he had laid hands on Marina spoke to a very unstable state of mind.

"Okay, Marina, stay calm. Where are you? Are you safe now?"

"I'm safe, Ed. I'm outside the apartment, and Greg is still inside. I am driving to my friend's house; I'm going to stay with her for a while."

"All right," Eddie said as he stood up and moved quickly into his house. "Call me when you get there so that I know you are safe, okay?" He slipped his shoes on and grabbed his car keys on his way out the door.

"Okay, Ed, thanks." Marina seemed much calmer now, and Ed hung up the phone as he got into the car and started it.

He drove to Greg's apartment and was instantly assailed by the overpowering smell of whiskey as he walked up to the front door. He noticed the broken glass on the floor, but his attention was focused on the man sitting with his back to him, head in hands. The sight of Greg broken in such a way was almost more than he could bear, but Ed swallowed his own tears and went to comfort his friend.

"Greg?" Ed's voice came to him softly. "Greg, what happened?"

Greg shook his head. "I don't know, buddy, I don't know. I really screwed up this time, Eddie." He slowly turned his head to look at Eddie, who was kneeling behind him, his hands on Greg's shoulders. "Eddie," he managed to get out, his red, puffy eyes filling with tears again, "I need help, buddy."

At that, Ed gathered Greg into his arms and held him as the sobs began again and the tears flowed freely. Greg held tightly to Ed's shirt and buried his face in his chest. It seemed like hours later when he stopped crying and took a deep breath. His eyes felt as if they had been rubbed with sandpaper, his lungs burned from the sobs, and his legs were cramping from being in such an awkward position for so long.

Ed eased him away, but held onto Greg's arms. He looked him in the eye and said, "Tell me everything, Greg, and I mean everything. Leave nothing out."

Greg nodded and looked at the ground. He was afraid he was going to start crying again as he recounted how he had decided to drink himself into oblivion, the trip to the liquor store, and the altercation between himself and Marina, but there didn't seem to be any tears left in him. A deep blush spread from his neck to his face as he recalled how he had assaulted Marina when the bottle broke. When he finished, he asked, "Where's Marina, Eddie? Is she all right?"

"She's fine, buddy; she's gone to stay with a friend for a while. I think that's for the best, don't you?"

"Of course, that's for the best."

Eddie had helped him clean up, both the apartment and himself, and then Ed had immediately put a call in to the police psychiatrist. He explained the situation briefly over the phone, and the doctor had agreed to see Greg right away.

Greg's plan to drive Marina away had worked, even if it was not exactly as he would have liked. Although she didn't press charges against him, for which Greg was grateful, she refused to have anything to do with him from that day on. It was not like Greg could blame her.

A few days after the assault, Marina showed up at the apartment, but she only stayed long enough to pack her things. Greg was home, but not one word was spoken between them. He had tried to call her later that day to apologize, but she never answered the phone, and she never responded to his messages, whether voice or text. After a month of trying to contact her, Greg resigned himself to the fact that she wanted nothing more to do with him. It was over between them.

The sessions with the psychiatrist started at once a week, an hour at a time. Over the past year, they had tapered off to once every two weeks, to once a month, to the current plan, which was "whenever deemed necessary by the patient or doctor." The doctor had helped him sort out his feelings, especially what he eventually realized was survivor's guilt. He had been right outside the Casey Jeffers Building when it blew up, and he was the one who had sent Donna and Jimmy to their deaths. He felt like he should have been the one inside the building, not Team Three. At least, that was what he was feeling when he first started the therapy. The doctor helped him realize that Donna and Jimmy's deaths were not his fault; they were the fault of Marcus Faber. Greg finally accepted the fact that Faber had been the only one who did anything wrong that day. Donna and Jimmy had died doing their jobs, and nothing Greg had done or not done had contributed to their deaths.

As the mental pain of guilt and memories began to decline, so did the physical pain from his leg and chest. The wounds healed, and while the lack of full mobility annoyed him to no end, it, too, was something he learned to deal with. Now the pain was gone, but the muscle damage in his thigh prevented him from bending his knee very far, and so he still used the cane for some support, especially when walking up or down stairs. He could stand and walk without it, but not for very long at a time. The pain of his imminent retirement from the SRU took longer to get rid of, however. That pain didn't go away until after his retirement party a year after the bombings. That night, with all of his friends and family surrounding him, making speeches and telling stories about their time together, it finally hit home that there was no chance he would be returning to the SRU. Until that night, he had held a small glimmer of hope that things would change, that some miracle would happen, and he would be able to go back to his old job. The party was the final nail in the coffin of his career at the SRU, though, and, after numerous sessions with the psychiatrist, Greg was able to accept that he had turned a corner in his life. With that acceptance, he was able to put all of his energy into teaching at the college. Now he was a respected instructor, teaching classes in negotiation techniques and tactical maneuvers. He still missed the SRU terribly, but he truly enjoyed his students, especially because he wasn't teaching the brand new recruits. His classes were reserved for advanced cadets and experienced law enforcement officers who wanted to expand their knowledge and become better officers. His classes were so popular, they all had waiting lists, and, while the cadets were guaranteed a spot because the classes were required, active officers were encouraged to sign up for a class six months to a year ahead of time. Because of this, Greg had almost a year's worth of classes already filled to capacity.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

The voices of the four men at his table brought Greg's attention back to the present once again. They didn't give any indication that they noticed he had not been attending to their stories, but he knew they had. They knew that he still struggled, and an unspoken pact had been made between them all that, unless it appeared that he was getting too depressed or destructive, they would leave him to deal with his memories alone. His mind came back now, and he tried to focus on what they were saying. Spike was telling them how he and Winnie had played mini golf, and soon he had them all laughing when he told them about how horribly he had played. Even Greg laughed heartily when Spike recounted one stroke that ended with his ball hitting a giant blue dinosaur and bouncing off right into the middle of a large mud puddle. Winnie had said that he should just get another ball, but Spike insisted that he could get it out. At first, he tried to reach it with his club, but it was too far out. Spike then leaned over as far as he could, which resulted in him losing his balance and landing face-first in the puddle. He grinned at Winnie, however, as he held his orange golf ball triumphantly in the air, even as mud and water dripped off of his ears and chin.

The evening continued on in that vein until dinner was over, and the men decided to call it a night. As the five men stood and shook hands, promising to meet again the following week, Greg caught a flash of color out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head toward the bar where he saw a woman sitting on one of the stools. She had curly, slightly longer than shoulder-length blonde hair, and the color he had seen came from her blouse, which was a shade of iridescent purple that he couldn't quite place. His gaze took in the rest of the woman's outfit, which included black pants and shiny black flats. Her outfit, beautiful though it was, was not was captured his attention, however. She was watching him. Not just watching him, though. She was turned around in her seat, back to the bar, staring at him with what seemed to be intense interest, a small smile on her lips as she sipped her drink through a straw. Her eyes were a brilliant blue, with a darker blue ring around the iris. They were the most bewitching eyes he had ever seen, and he couldn't seem to look away from them.

"Greg? Earth to Greg; you there, buddy?" Ed's hand waving in front of his face caused him to start and turn toward his friend.

"Huh?"

Ed was the only one left standing at the table with Greg; the other three men were nowhere to be seen.

"Wow, what caught your attention all of a sudden? I asked you if you wanted a ride home. I know you said you took a cab here."

"Oh," Greg responded, glancing back at the woman, who had turned back toward the bar. "No thanks, Ed, I'll just take a cab back, or I might walk; it's not that far."

"All right, if you say so." Ed looked in the direction of Greg's glance and noticed the woman. Her back was to them now, and he shook his head slightly and smiled while he leaned toward Greg conspiratorially. "Are you thinking of talking to her, buddy?"

"What? Who?" Greg's attention snapped back to his friend. "I mean, no; I mean…" He took a deep breath, "I don't know what I mean."

"She is beautiful, I must say," Ed continued.

"How can you tell from here? You can't even see her face," Greg responded, although he had to admit that his friend was right on that score.

"I can't see it now, but I noticed her watching you while we were eating." Ed laughed at the look on Greg's face, which said that Eddie shouldn't be looking at other women when he had a lovely wife back home. "Hey, I may be happily married with two wonderful kids, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy beauty when I see it. So, I ask again, are you going to talk to her?"

Greg began to grin. "You know, Eddie, I think I might just do that."

"Hallelujah! It's about time!" Ed cried, slapping Greg on the back in the process, ignoring the annoyed looks coming from the few people left in the restaurant. "I guess I'll leave you to it, then," he finished, and he walked out the door, still chuckling to himself.

The woman had reacted to Ed's exuberant shout by turning once again on her stool until she was facing Greg. As Ed left, the small smile on her face grew a little bigger when she saw that Greg was not accompanying him out the door.

It had been almost six months since Marina had left him, and Greg had not been on a single date in that time. For the longest time, he simply didn't feel as if he had anything to offer a woman. After all, what was he? A washed-up, crippled ex-SRU officer with a temper and serious psychological problems. What woman would want that in her life? After the sessions with the psychiatrist, that image of himself was gone, but he was still apprehensive about being with a woman. He was especially afraid that his temper would flare, and he would hurt her. After all, it had happened before. With this woman again staring at him, however, he decided that it was time to see what sort of man he had become. He walked up to the bar and indicated an empty stool next to her.

"Hi, mind if I sit down?"

She turned her stool back around and placed her glass on the bar. "Not at all," she replied, the smile still gracing her face.

He sat on the stool as gracefully as he could and propped his cane against the bar by his feet. He could tell that she noticed the slight difficulty he had with this process, but she didn't say anything. After he got settled, he turned to her and smiled.

"My name is Greg," he said, holding out his right hand.

"Lynn." She took his hand and gave it a small shake.

Not only had Greg not dated in six months, he had not even touched a woman, unless you counted hugs from Jules, Sophie, and Shelley, and he didn't. The simple act of Lynn taking his hand sent a shock of electricity through his body. Her hand was not too small, and it fit into his perfectly. It was soft, and he couldn't seem to let it go.

Lynn noticed this, and she let out a small laugh. "May I have my hand back now?"

"Oh, of course, sorry about that," Greg flushed as he hastily dropped her hand. This was just great; thirty seconds had passed, and he had already managed to make a complete fool of himself.

He attempted to cover his embarrassment. He had noticed her drink was almost empty, so he asked, "May I buy you another drink?"

"That would be lovely, thank you."

Greg cleared his throat. "Tom?" he called the bartender. "Another Diet Coke for me, and a…" He stopped. Turning to Lynn, he asked, "What are you drinking?"

"Sprite," she replied simply, her smile widening a little at the look of surprise on Greg's face at her answer.

"Oh, okay. A Sprite for the lady," he continued, turning back to Tom.

"Right away, Greg."

"You must come here a lot, Greg, for the bartender to know you by name."

He looked at Lynn who was watching him with an amused expression on her face. He found himself caught up in her eyes again, and he didn't respond right away. He mentally shook himself like a dog when he realized she had said something.

"What? Oh, yeah, I've been coming here for years. My buddies and I spend every Friday night here."

"Guys night out, huh? That's neat. It must be nice to have a circle of friends like that."

"It is," Greg said honestly, a small wave of gratitude sweeping through him as he remembered all that his friends had done for him.

"Hey," he said, "would you rather sit at a table? It might be more comfortable than these stools."

"Yes, I would like that." Lynn slid off her stool as Greg attempted to do the same, but she did it much more gracefully than he did. He grabbed his cane with his left hand and placed his right hand on the small of her back as he guided her back to the table he and the others had just occupied. On the way, he caught Tom's eye and motioned that they were moving, so Tom brought their drinks to the table.

After they sat down, Greg asked, "Have you eaten?"

"Yes, thanks." Lynn knew that Greg had eaten, for she had been watching him from the moment she sat down at the bar.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

She didn't know what had caused her to notice him at first. She was generally not attracted to balding, middle-aged men, but there was something about him. He looked familiar, but she couldn't place him, and she didn't know anyone in Toronto. Perhaps it was the fact that he looked to be in his own world as the men around him talked and laughed. As she watched, she saw flashes of pain and regret cross his face, although the other men seemed not to notice. After a while, he had come out of his own head, and the group of men talked and laughed, and she knew that they had known each other a very long time. She could tell by the comfortable way they teased each other. She caught snippets of their conversation when they got a little loud, and she smiled to herself when waves of laughter flowed from their table at one particularly funny story.

The whole time, however, she couldn't seem to take her eyes off of the man who had arrived first. When she had walked into O'Malley's, he was already seated at the table. It was a table that seated six, so she assumed he was waiting for someone. It was then that she first noticed that his mind did not seem to be in the present. Most people who were waiting checked their watches or glanced at the door, but this man simply sat, staring into his drink. It intrigued her, and she continued to watch him out of the corner of her eye. As the night continued, she nursed her own drink and began to watch him more openly. By the time the men had finished their dinner, she had turned completely around in her stool and was staring at him unabashedly.

When he looked in her direction, she saw that his eyes were a gorgeous deep brown that reminded her of melted dark chocolate. She felt like she was drowning in them; they captivated her, and it scared her a little. When his tall friend got his attention, and he turned away, she took that opportunity to turn back to the bar. She was taking deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart, when she heard his friend cry out. She whipped around on her stool again and saw the back slap and the grins, and she smiled wider when she saw that the taller man was leaving, while Mr. Chocolate Eyes obviously was not. As a matter of fact, he was walking straight toward her, and for the first time, she noticed the cane. Her heart did a small flip-flop when he asked to sit down, and she saw the difficulty he had sitting on the stool. She was now curious, but she didn't want to embarrass him, so she said nothing.

As nervous as he was, Greg could tell that Lynn was even more nervous. After they were seated at the table, and it was determined that neither of them was hungry, an awkward silence ensued.

"So, Sprite, huh? Any story behind that?" he blurted when the silence became too much for him to handle.

Lynn smiled. "No, not really. I just learned a long time ago that I don't like the taste of alcohol. I'll drink it occasionally, you know, at family dinners and such, but I rarely finish a whole glass." She shrugged. "A lot of people think that's weird."

"Not weird at all," Greg offered kindly. "If you don't like it, you don't like it."

"What about you? I noticed the sodas you've been drinking all night."

"Ah, my problem is that I used to like alcohol way too much." Greg didn't want to get into all the details of his alcoholism with a stranger, but he somehow felt comfortable enough with Lynn to tell her a little. "I'm a recovering alcoholic."

"Recovering? I'm glad to hear that. There are a number of people in my family who haven't gotten to the 'recovering' part yet, so I've seen what damage alcohol can do to a person and their family."

"Trust me," Greg replied, "I know exactly what you mean."

"So, tell me about yourself," he continued, trying to steer the conversation toward something a little lighter.

Lynn smiled slightly and responded, "No."

"No?" Greg's eyebrows went up in surprise. He certainly wasn't expecting that response. He took a second and then continued, "Okay, what will we talk about?"

Lynn's smile grew a little. "I mean, no, I won't just start talking about myself. I have found that when people do that, they give the other person a lot of information they don't really want or need. However, if you ask me questions, I will decide whether or not to answer them. That way you will get to know what you want to know, and I will do the same."

"All right, then." Greg thought for a moment and then asked his first question. "Are you from Toronto?"

"No," Lynn answered. "I am actually from the States; Colorado to be exact."

"Really? Wow! You're a long way from home." Greg had never even considered that this woman was American.

"That is very true. My turn; may I assume you are from Toronto?"

"Yep, born and bred, well, the suburbs, anyway. It's a great city; maybe I can show you around sometime?" Wow, did he really just ask her out? He cringed a little inside as he anticipated a negative response.

Lynn surprised him, though, when she replied, "I'd really like that, Greg. I haven't been able to see much of the city since I arrived yesterday."

"That's it, then. Are you free tomorrow morning? Say eight o'clock?"

"Actually, I am," she said with a smile, "but you're not using that question to end this night, are you? I have so many more questions for you."

"No, no," he said hastily. "As a matter of fact, I wouldn't mind at all if tonight bled straight into tomorrow's plans." What was happening to him? Greg was never this forward with a woman; he had always taken his time getting to know someone before even considering dating them. Lynn, however, seemed to have completely destroyed all of his inhibitions. All he knew was that he wanted to spend as much time as possible with this woman, especially now that he knew she was just visiting.

She did not seem insulted, though, and she laughed as she replied, "Well, we will just have to see how many questions we have for each other."

"Okay, on that note, next question, or rather a statement. Please tell me you are not married."

A flash of something Greg could not quite place crossed her face, and she looked down at the table briefly before bringing her eyes back up. "Not anymore," she said quietly.

"Oh, Lynn, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to bring up anything painful." He reached over and took one of her hands in both of his. This was obviously a touchy subject, and he felt like a complete heel for mentioning it.

"No, Greg, it's all right. You didn't know, and it's getting easier to talk about." She pulled her hand from his and took a sip of her drink. "I was married," she continued softly. "My husband and I were together for almost twenty-five years when he died."

Twenty-five years? Greg could not believe that Lynn could have been married that long. She looked to be in her early forties, so she must have been very young when she was wed.

"I'm sorry, Lynn. We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to."

"No, you asked, and I'll answer. John and I met while I was still in high school. He was older, already graduated, and we got married about a year after I graduated. We built a wonderful life together, but he died about eighteen months ago."

Eighteen months. Right around the time Greg himself had almost died. There were certainly some strange coincidences in the world.

"What about you?" Lynn continued. "I see no ring, so I'm going to say that you are not married either?"

"No," he replied, "although I was a long time ago. That marriage did not end well, and I never see or talk to my ex-wife anymore."

"That's too bad. Any children?"

"Yes, I have one son, Dean. He is nineteen years old, and he is currently studying at the Police College to be a Constable." Greg couldn't keep the pride out of his voice as he said this. Even though he had opposed Dean's decision to be a cop at first, he was now intensely proud of his son.

"Constable?" Lynn questioned.

"Yes, it's the first rank in the police force. I believe it would correspond to an Officer in the States."

"Oh, that makes sense. I bet you are very proud of him."

"I am, I am. And you? Any children?"

Lynn chuckled a little at that question. "Are you sure you are ready for the answer?"

Greg was a little confused, but he nodded his head.

"All right, you asked for it. I have five children." Lynn stopped there to see Greg's reaction, but beyond the raising of his eyebrows, there was nothing. "Wow, most people respond very strongly to that statement. 'Five? How could you handle that many? Don't you know about overpopulation? Don't you know about birth control?' These are the typical responses I get."

"Seriously? People actually mention overpopulation and birth control to you?" Greg was shocked. He would never even consider being that rude.

"Oh, yes," Lynn continued. "It was especially bad when they were younger. My oldest was just shy of eight years old when my youngest was born, so you can imagine how it looked when I took them all to the store."

Greg laughed at the image her words produced. "I can imagine, actually. I think it's great that you have such a big family."

"Well, now my kids are twenty-six, twenty-four, twenty-three, twenty, and eighteen years old. My oldest son, John, is a hotel manager. He is going to get married in April. My oldest daughter, May, has been married for two years and is expecting my first grandchild in November. She is a third grade teacher. My son, James, is currently in graduate school, pursuing a master's degree in business. William, my youngest son, is working on a bachelor's degree in engineering, and my youngest daughter, Rose, just graduated high school. She wants to be a veterinarian."

There was a moment of silence as Greg's brain processed all of this information. He had been impressed by Lynn's beauty and poise before, but the fact that she had raised five seemingly successful children elevated her even more in his eyes.

"Wow, that is something," he said sincerely. He took a sip of his drink and tried to collect his thoughts.

"Thank you, Greg, I am very proud of all of them. Now, what is it you do?"

Greg didn't answer right away. He wasn't sure he wanted to answer that question, but he knew that he needed to be able to speak to people about it eventually. Now seemed as good a time as any.

"I am a police officer. I am the Head Instructor at the Ontario Police College."

"Really?" Lynn seemed very pleased to hear this. "That is so amazing. I have such respect for all first responders; I don't know how you guys can do what you do every day. Have you been an instructor for long?"

"No," Greg responded as a wave of regret passed through him, "only about six months. I was a member of the SRU before that." It surprised him that he could speak of his former job with no bitterness in his voice. Perhaps he really had come to terms with his current situation.

Lynn's face fell a little at this revelation, and her eyes narrowed. "SRU? That's the Strategic Response Unit, right?"

"Yes, it is."

The smile fled completely from Lynn's face to be replaced with a frown and scrunched-up eyebrows, and she looked down at her drink. Greg noticed that she was gripping her glass very tightly, and he reached over and gently pried her fingers from the glass. He was afraid she might shatter it with the pressure she was exerting. He set the glass aside and held both of her hands between his.

"Lynn, what is it?" He searched her face for some sign of what was wrong.

She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "Is your last name Parker?"

Her question caught him completely by surprise. "Yes, it is," he managed to get out. "How did you know that?"

"I saw you on the television during the bombings eighteen months ago." She glanced down at his leg. "That's how you hurt your leg, isn't it?"

This was getting weird, but he answered, "Yes, the bomber shot me when I stopped his last bomb." He squeezed her hands a little. "How do you know all this about me?"

It surprised him to see tears forming in her eyes as she stared into his. "Oh, I paid close attention to everything about that day. Now I know why you looked so familiar. I watched every television report and read every article I could find." Her voice caught as the tears began to fall steadily down her face. "My husband was in City Hall when it blew up."


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Greg sat in stunned silence while Lynn's words sank in and he recalled his earlier thought about coincidences. His mind raced as he tried to think of something to say. Suddenly, an idea hit him.

"Lynn, you're here for the memorial ceremony, aren't you?"

When she nodded, it all made sense to him. On Monday, three days from now, he was to speak at a memorial ceremony to remember those who had died in the bombings. The date was exactly eighteen months from the day Marcus Faber terrorized the city. Greg's part in the ceremony was going to be the reading of the names, ages, and hometowns of the fifty-seven victims. He had gotten the list a few weeks earlier, and he had looked it over many times, mainly focusing on the last two: Donna Anne Sabine-Gerald, age 42, Brampton, Ontario, Canada; and James Robert Campbell, age 38, Milton, Ontario, Canada. Although he had those two memorized because he had known them personally, there were two others that stuck out from the rest. One of those was Ethan Walker Lee, age 5, Clarington, Ontario, Canada, the only child killed in the blasts, and the other was...

"John Thomas Mitchell, age 51, Grand Junction, Colorado, United States of America."

He didn't realize he had spoken out loud until he heard Lynn gasp and felt her pull her hands from his.

"How do you know that?" she demanded, the tears still streaming down her face.

Greg sighed heavily. "I am going to be reading the names at the ceremony on Monday. I remembered his name because he was the only person from the States." He searched Lynn's face to see what she thinking, but all he saw was intense pain and sorrow. He felt absolutely horrible that he was the one who had brought all this to the surface in this way.

"Lynn, are you all right?" As soon as he said it, he felt stupid. Of course she wasn't all right; that was plain to anyone who had eyes. Luckily, the restaurant had almost completely emptied out. There was only one other table that was occupied, but it was on the other side of the room. The couple sitting there was paying no attention to them at all.

After what seemed like hours, as he watched Lynn, he saw the tears slow and then stop. Her breathing slowed to normal, and the only sign that she was still upset was the fact that her hands were slowly shredding a napkin into miniscule pieces.

With a deep breath, she looked up at him. "Wow," she managed, "I haven't cried like that in quite a while. I thought I was past that stage. After all, I've been talking to friends and family about that day for months now without breaking down."

"Maybe it's because you are here where it happened," Greg offered. "Sometimes that can make all the difference in the world."

"You're probably right," she responded, and then she surprised Greg by taking his hands in hers just like he had done a short time ago. She began to talk, and he sat silently and listened.

"John wasn't even supposed to be here that day. His company wanted to start a branch in Canada – their first international venture. Another of his colleagues was set to come and start the process, but at the last minute, he got very sick. The plane tickets had already been bought, the hotel rooms reserved, and John's boss, Roger, didn't want to have to redo everything, so he asked John if he wanted to come instead. Of course, John jumped at the chance. Not only was it a way to possibly move up in the company, it was also an all-expenses paid trip to Canada. He would have been crazy to pass that up, right?

"Anyway, I found out later that the day after they got here, John and Roger went to City Hall to get some information on what steps were necessary to start an international company in Toronto. John had called me just before they left the hotel, so I had no reason to think he would contact me before that evening. I was surprised, then, when I got a call from Roger's wife telling me to turn on the television. She had been watching a news channel, and the news ticker at the bottom of the screen had a line about two bombings in Toronto, one at a federal building, and one at City Hall. Of course, I knew John and Roger were in Toronto, but I had no idea where exactly.

"I immediately called my four older kids who weren't living at home, and they came over to my house. My youngest daughter had been at a friend's house, and I told her to come home, too. Together, we watched everything the television news had to show about the bombings, and we all took turns checking the online reports as well. This went on for hours until I got another phone call from Roger's wife.

"Roger had been pulled from the wreckage of City Hall with fairly minor injuries; I think he had a broken leg and a head wound, but nothing that couldn't be fixed. She seemed reluctant to continue, but when I asked about John, she said that Roger didn't know where he was. He had said that at the time the bomb exploded, the two men had been separated. John had been with the city representative while Roger had stepped out to go to the restroom."

Throughout all of this, Lynn's grasp on Greg's hands gradually tightened until it felt like she was holding on for dear life. Her eyes, which had remained locked on his the entire time, glistened with tears, but they did not fall.

After another deep breath, Lynn continued, "They found his body two days after the bombings. The office he had been in was right next to the room with the bomb, and they told me that he was probably killed instantly; that he had probably felt nothing."

At this, she let out a humorless laugh. "Probably felt nothing! Like that was supposed to make me feel better about losing my husband, right?"

Greg still said nothing, but he gently squeezed Lynn's hands, which seemed to calm her somewhat. The tears in Lynn's eyes still had not fallen, and Greg was about to speak when she let go of his hands.

"Well, that's my story," she said bitterly. It was obvious to Greg that she was attempting to cover her pain with bravado. "Not exactly what you were expecting when you introduced yourself, is it?"

Greg smiled sadly. "No, not at all," he said quietly, "but I am very glad you felt you could trust me with it."

Lynn looked at him with surprise, as if she had just realized she had poured her heart out to a complete stranger. Then she smiled, although there was still a sadness to it. "Well, maybe I knew I could trust the man who saved the city. You know that's what all the articles said about you, don't you? 'Sergeant Gregory Parker, the Hero of Toronto.' Even in the States, that's what they called you. The news was full of stories about how your team diffused all those other bombs, and I saw the clips about your speech to the city after the City Hall bomb. You have quite a way with words, Sergeant Parker. I'm sure you made a lot of people feel better that day. I know that, even though I didn't know where my husband was, or if he was still alive, and even though I was thirteen hundred miles away, you made me feel as if it might all turn out okay. I thought that the people of Toronto were lucky to have a man like you working to keep the city safe. And now that I have met you, that belief has only been strengthened."

Greg didn't know what to say about that. He certainly didn't feel much like a hero. It always embarrassed him when people praised him for just doing his job. His retirement party had been one long, uncomfortable night for that very reason.

His attention was brought back to Lynn as she began to stand up. "Well, I have taken up too much of your time. I should be getting back to my hotel."

"Wait," Greg put his hand on her arm to stop her. "Do you have to leave? I don't want you to think that I want you to go because of what just happened. I would really like to spend some more time with you, if it's not too uncomfortable for you."

"No, it's not," she replied, as she stood up from the table. "I am just very tired all of a sudden, and I would like to get back and sleep." When she saw the disappointment on his face, she smiled. "It's not you, Greg, believe me. As a matter of fact, I would still like to take you up on your offer to show me around the city tomorrow, if that works for you."

Greg stood with her. "I would really like that," he said, "and, if you'll let me, I'd like to accompany you back to your hotel – just to make sure you get there safely, of course."

Lynn looked at him intently for a moment, and then, apparently being satisfied with what she saw, nodded. "All right, I accept."

"Great!" he said as he took his cane in his left hand and offered his right arm to Lynn. She smiled as she grabbed her purse and took his arm. They walked out of the restaurant, Greg giving a nod to Tom as they passed the bar. Outside, he hailed a cab, and the two climbed in, with Greg gallantly allowing Lynn to enter the car first while he held the door for her. He was surprised when she gave the driver the name of The Hazelton Hotel as their destination, for that was the classiest hotel in the entire city. He told himself he would have to ask Lynn about that during their time together the next day. The cab ride was taken in silence, but it was a comfortable silence, and when they reached the hotel, Greg climbed out of the cab first and then helped Lynn out. He held onto her hand after she exited the cab, and on impulse, he raised it to his lips and softly kissed her knuckles.

He was encouraged by the smile that brightened her face at this, and he said, "Until tomorrow, then? I'll meet you in the lobby at eight, all right?"

She nodded her head, the smile never dimming, and replied, "Tomorrow, eight o'clock," and then she pulled her hand from his, turned, and entered the hotel.

As she walked away, Greg felt a twinge in his chest, and he took a deep breath. What was happening to him? He hadn't ever felt this way about a woman before, especially one he had just met, and he wondered if it was just empathy for what she had gone through and for what she would have to go through in a few days. He climbed back into the cab and gave the driver his home address.

The cab pulled away from the curb and slowly accelerated. _Some negotiator. I can teach others how to empathize and connect, but i can't even sort out my own feelings._

He closed his eyes and relaxed against the back of the seat for the twenty-minute ride to his house, all the while trying to put the image of those beautiful blue eyes out of his mind.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

The next day dawned bright and brilliant. As Greg walked up to the front doors of The Hazelton, he looked up at the blue sky overhead. There wasn't a cloud to be seen, and the temperature was warm enough already that he knew it was going to be a gorgeous day.

The doorman held the door for him, and he entered the lobby of the hotel. He had never been there before – it was way beyond his pay grade – but he had heard about its opulence. Now he saw that the stories were all true. The lobby was elegantly decorated in earth tones, and even he could tell the furniture was very expensive. He noticed all of this incidentally, however, because his attention was fixed on Lynn, who was waiting for him in one of the chairs next to a large window, reading a magazine.

She had dressed in jeans and a wrap-around, beige shirt. He saw that her feet were shod with sensible tennis shoes. It was such a simple outfit, but Greg thought she looked even more beautiful than she had the night before. Maybe it was the way she was framed by the light coming through the window, but he caught his breath at the sight of her.

He had chosen a similar outfit for himself, although he had opted for a black T-shirt and sport coat along with his jeans and walking shoes.

Lynn looked up as she heard the tapping of his cane on the tiles, and she let her eyes wander over him from top to bottom and back until her gaze stopped and she stared into his eyes. She smiled, and Greg was happy to see that the smile reached her eyes. He had been terrified that she would change her mind and not show up. The fact that she was indeed there, and even seemed happy to see him, encouraged him immensely.

She put the magazine down on the side table and took the hand that he offered to her as he stopped in front of her. He helped her to her feet, and, as he had the night before, kissed her knuckles, although he applied slightly more pressure this time.

"Greg," she said sweetly, "you are the consummate gentleman. It's too bad there are not more men like you in the world."

"Well, I try," he said with a smile. "Besides," he joked, "if there were more like me, then you wouldn't think I was special, would you?"

Lynn laughed as he put her hand on his arm, and they walked out of the lobby to Greg's car, which he had left in the unloading zone in front of the hotel. This day was starting out very well, and he couldn't wipe the smile from his face as he helped Lynn into the front passenger seat. As he walked around the car to his side, he discreetly admired the beautiful woman sitting in his fine-looking car.

Greg didn't drive very much anymore. It wasn't that he couldn't, but the inability to bend his left leg completely made it a little awkward, and often it was just easier to take a cab. He had decided, though, that it would be much easier to drive today than to have to take cabs all over the city. Before the bombings, he had always driven manual cars, but shortly after being released from the hospital, he had traded in his manual silver 2011 Ford Mustang Shelby GT500 for the same car with an automatic transmission. He loved his car; it was the only thing he really splurged on, and he kept it in pristine condition. Therefore, he was thrilled when Lynn commented that it was beautiful.

As he eased into traffic, he asked, "So, did you have anything in particular in mind that you wanted to see?"

"No," Lynn replied. "As a matter of fact, I know almost nothing about Toronto, so, if you don't mind, I will leave the day in your capable hands."

Greg could hear in her voice that she was happy, and he was relieved that it did not appear that their conversation from the night before would overshadow their day.

"I don't mind at all," he said, with a smile on his face, and the car picked up speed as he drove to their first destination.

The day began superbly. The weather cooperated, and the temperature stayed in the mid-seventies with no rain, but far beyond that, the company in which Greg spent his day was the most entertaining and pleasant that he had enjoyed in a very long time. All of the tension from the night before seemed to have vanished, and Greg reveled in every laugh and smile that Lynn bestowed on him.

He asked Lynn if she had eaten breakfast, and the answer was in the negative, so their first stop was at a Timmy's. Greg was surprised that she had never heard of Timmy's, for he knew that there were some in the States, but apparently not in Colorado. He learned that, along with alcohol, Lynn also disliked coffee, so while he enjoyed his double double and doughnut, she ordered a Peppermint Latte Tea and a breakfast Panini. Their conversation was light, and they told each other interesting facts about their hometowns.

When they were back in the car, Lynn asked, "Well, where to next, Sergeant Parker?"

"Well, Mrs. Mitchell, we have the largest zoo in Canada, so I was thinking of going there today."

Greg laughed out loud as Lynn actually bounced in her seat like a five-year-old and clapped her hands. "Oh, I love zoos!"

"I can tell," he said, still laughing.

A jolt ran through him when she reached over and placed her hand gently on his arm. "Thank you, Greg," she said sincerely. "This was really sweet of you."

He cleared his throat. "Don't mention it," he said gruffly, starting the car and pulling out into traffic.

Lynn removed her hand, and sat back in her seat, looking out of the side window at the buildings passing by. Greg couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret at the lack of contact, but he focused on driving, and they soon arrived at the zoo.

They spent the morning roaming the paths, admiring the animals, and just enjoying each other's company. Greg surreptitiously took every opportunity he could to touch Lynn – a hand on her back as they watched the hippos, plucking a fallen leaf out of her hair, or just simply brushing up against her as they walked. He couldn't seem to stop; he needed to feel her. Finally, an hour or so after they arrived, he stopped in the middle of the path.

Lynn hadn't noticed at first, and she took a few more steps before realizing that Greg was no longer beside her. She turned, thinking that he had stopped to look at an exhibit, and she was surprised to see that he was staring intently at her. When he caught her gaze, he immediately looked down at the ground.

"What is it, Greg? Is it your leg? Do you need to rest?" She walked back to him and laid her hand on his arm. "Oh, I'm so sorry; I've been so inconsiderate! Come on, let's sit down."

His head snapped up. "No, it's not that," he reassured her, his head spinning with the sensation of her touching him. He started to say more, but his mouth had dried up, and he swallowed heavily before taking a deep breath. Damn it, he felt like a teenager experiencing his first crush! He placed his hand over hers before continuing, "This is going to sound really stupid, but…" he couldn't continue.

"What?" Lynn began to wonder if something was really wrong. "Greg?"

Greg took another deep breath and tried again. "I was just wondering if you would let me hold your hand." Once the words were out, Greg felt like a complete idiot. Asking to hold her hand – what was he, twelve?

Lynn didn't seem to think so, though, because her face broke out into a brilliant smile, and she immediately slipped her left hand into his right and interlaced their fingers. "You didn't have to ask, silly. I wouldn't have pulled away."

An answering smile graced his own face as he tightened his grip slightly. "Wow!" he laughed. "I don't know what has come over me. Believe me, I am not usually this juvenile around women. There is just something about you."

"What is that?" she responded as they began walking again, hands linked.

"I don't know. I just have this overwhelming desire to make this day absolutely perfect, and I am terrified that I'll mess it up."

"Well, I don't think that's possible," she assured him.

Greg thought back to his last day with Marina and shook his head. "You might be surprised."

Lynn looked at him questioningly, but he didn't elaborate, and she let it go.

They continued through the zoo, and after a short while, Greg felt comfortable enough to place his hand around Lynn's waist whenever they stopped to look at an exhibit. As she had stated, Lynn did not pull away from him. On the contrary, her arm went around his waist as well. When they moved on from an exhibit, their hands immediately joined. They spent the rest of the time talking about mundane things, like their favorite animals and what kind of food they liked.

They left the zoo around one o'clock, by which time they were both starving. During their talks, it was discovered that they both loved Chinese food, so Greg drove to a small mom-and-pop place that he knew served fantastic food and had great service. After they were seated and their orders were taken, Greg reached across the table and took Lynn's hand.

She smiled and squeezed his hand gently. "So," she started, "what should we talk about now?"

"Well, I still have a lot of questions that I didn't get to last night," he said cautiously, watching her face for any sign of distress.

There was nothing, but she released his hand and sat back in her chair. "As do I," she said simply. They both realized that they had talked about nothing of substance the whole morning. Now seemed to be a good time to continue their conversation from the night before.

"Okay, then," Greg said, also sitting back. "First, and please don't be offended, but The Hazelton? That is quite the hotel, you know?"

Lynn let out a short laugh. "Oh, I know. Believe me, if I were paying for this trip, I would definitely not be staying there. John's company is paying all of my expenses until Tuesday. If I decide to stay longer, I'm on my own. At that point, I'll be moving to an EconoLodge or Super 8. Those are more in my price range."

Greg laughed at that, and the tension he was feeling about bringing up the reason for Lynn's visit diminished. He still wanted to tread lightly, but her answer seemed to indicate that she was not entirely averse to talking about it.

"How long do you plan on staying then?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said thoughtfully. "At first, I had thought I would want to get out of town immediately after the ceremony, but now," she smiled at him, "I'm not so sure I want to leave so quickly."

Greg smiled back. "I'm glad to hear it."

The food came at that point, and while they ate, they continued to ask questions about each other. Greg learned that Lynn's five children were flying in the next day and would be staying in rooms at The Hazelton as well. They would stay through Monday and fly back home on Tuesday. He learned that she was the founder and principal of a small, private school in Grand Junction. Although he regretted the reason for her trip to Canada, he was grateful that it was summer break for Lynn's school. The police college was also on a month-long break. If Lynn decided to stay past Tuesday, he didn't have to worry about going back to work for another two weeks.

The college was a fair distance from the city, and, while classes were in session, Greg lived in a room at the college during the week, driving home each Friday night and back each Monday morning. The round trip was grueling, and he could stay at the college full-time if he chose – most instructors did – but he didn't want to completely give up his life in the city. He treasured the dinners with his team far too much to stop, and he enjoyed the freedom and quiet he experienced when in his own apartment.

Throughout lunch, certain questions were nagging Greg, but he refused to pay any attention to them. They continued to bother him, however, and at one point, when the conversation had stilled, and they were both quietly eating, the questions came to the forefront of his mind. Should he be pursuing this relationship? After all, it was tragedy that had brought Lynn to his city – a tragedy that he was directly involved with. Was he using Lynn's horrible situation just to further his own desires? What if she was simply seeing him as 'The Hero of Toronto,' much as Marina had viewed him as her savior at first? While he truly believed that Marina had grown to see him as a man, not a hero, he knew that he couldn't assume Lynn would as well. He couldn't chase these thoughts from his mind entirely, but he was able to push them back until they were just an annoying buzz. He decided that he would just take things slowly and see what happened.

The rest of the day was spent exploring downtown Toronto. They visited the CN Tower and wandered through the Royal Ontario Museum. They walked along the streets, looking in shop windows and laughing about what they would buy if they had all the money in the world. Just before five o'clock, they were standing on the pier of Toronto Island, looking out at Lake Ontario.

Greg had been very amused when Lynn realized that Toronto bordered the lake and that it was only a short distance to the water. She really didn't know anything about the city. Her excitement at the thought of seeing the lake was contagious, and they took a ferry to the island. They then wandered through the center of the island until they reached the beach. Greg had seen the lake more times than he could count, having grown up in Toronto, but Lynn was quick to point out that water was not so abundant in Colorado. She had lived there almost her whole life, and she had never seen a lake so large that she couldn't see the far shore. And the lakes in Colorado didn't have beaches, either, at least not sand ones. Their shorelines were mostly made up of gravel and rocks. So they spent a good amount of time walking along the beach barefoot, hand in hand, Lynn carrying her shoes and Greg with his slung over his shoulder, until they ended up on the pier.

The sun was shining on the water, and Greg slipped his arm around Lynn's shoulders as they stood watching the waves lap against the pier. Her arm moved to his waist, and she leaned into his embrace. He felt, rather than heard, her sigh contentedly, and he tightened his grip, pulling her a little closer to him.

"This was a perfect day," he heard her say quietly. "Thank you, Greg." She pulled away just enough to look up into his face.

Their eyes locked, and he was instantly overwhelmed with a desire to kiss her. His eyes were drawn to her lips, and he put his hands on her shoulders to turn her so that she faced him completely. He let his hands slowly slide up and down her arms, and was gratified to see her eyelids grow heavy and her lips part slightly. He heard her breath quicken, and he leaned down, bringing his lips to hers. Suddenly, the nagging questions from earlier flared to life and he stopped. What was he doing? He was taking advantage of her grief by succumbing to his base desires. He held his position for what seemed like forever, feeling her warm breath on his lips and then forced himself to pull back.

Lynn's eyes opened in surprise when she felt him pull away. She was still breathing faster than normal. "What's wrong, Greg?" she asked, confusion evident in her voice.

He replaced his arm around her shoulder and turned once again to face the lake. "Nothing," he replied, not trusting himself to look at her. _Liar!_ he screamed to himself. _Everything is wrong!_ "I just think we should take things slowly." He sighed deeply as he uttered the worst lie of his life. He didn't want to go slowly; what he wanted was to take Lynn back to her hotel and show her exactly what effect she was having on him. He knew that he couldn't do that, however, at least not until he knew exactly what her feelings for him were.

"Oh, all right," he heard her say quietly as she resumed her former position. He thought he could hear disappointment in her voice. It gave him a small amount of encouragement, but he knew that he would have to address his questions about her soon.

He sighed again and took her hand in his. "I think we should be getting back," he said simply.

The walk back across the island was taken in silence, but it was not the comfortable silence that had filled parts of the day. Greg knew that Lynn was confused, and perhaps a little angry, but he didn't know how he was going to approach the conversation he really didn't want to have.

They got back to his car, and he drove Lynn back to The Hazelton. The silence continued, but as he pulled into the unloading zone and put the car in park, she reached over and placed her hand on his.

"Greg, something happened back there, and I think we need to talk about it. Why don't you come up to my room, and we will order room service for dinner?"

Greg stared out of the front window, not knowing what to say, her words stoking the embers of his desire to a raging inferno. He wasn't at all sure he could control himself if he was alone in her room with her, but then he turned to look at Lynn. Her blue eyes were full of concern, and he knew that she was right. They had both felt something on the pier, and they owed it to themselves to sort out what that was.

He nodded but didn't speak. He wasn't sure he could trust his voice. He kept the car idling, stepped out, and motioned to a valet. The young man quickly came over and stood by the driver's door. He handed Greg a ticket, and Greg walked around the car to Lynn's door, opened it, and helped her out. As the valet drove off, he put his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the hotel. He didn't know how this perfect day was going to end, but he was about to find out.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Greg was sitting on a chair next to the door inside Lynn's hotel room, waiting for her while she was "freshening up" in the bathroom. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and immediately noticed the numerous messages that Ed had left for him. He had kept his phone on silent so that he could focus his attention on Lynn, and she had so captivated him that he had not checked it until now. He glanced at the closed bathroom door, wondering if he had time for a quick call. He decided on a text instead: "Ed, spent the day with Lynn. Will call you later."

Within seconds, an answer arrived: "The woman from last night?"

Greg smiled, remembering that he had failed to let Ed know what had happened at O'Malley's after he left. He had spent the night thinking about Lynn and planning for today.

"Yep, that's her," he texted back. That's as far as he got. The bathroom door began to open, and he hastily shoved the phone back in his pocket. This was going to be hard enough; he didn't need Lynn knowing that he was talking to his buddy about her like he was still in high school.

He started to stand when Lynn walked into the room, but she shook her head and motioned him to remain seated. She took the chair next to Greg's and sat looking at him.

"So, do you want to tell me what that was all about at the pier?"

Greg sighed and put his elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. He kept his eyes on his hands as he thought about what to say.

"I don't know…no, wait, I do know," he corrected himself, still staring at his hands. He would not lie to her. He took a deep breath for courage and raised his head to look at her. "Lynn, I wanted to kiss you so badly, but I was afraid I was taking advantage of you."

"Taking advantage of me?" she scoffed. "Why would you ever think that?"

"You are here because of your husband's death, and I was directly involved in the events that caused his death. I don't want you to do something you'll regret later. Last night showed me that you still feel deeply for your husband, and I don't want you to feel guilty about betraying his memory, especially with someone so close to the situation."

She stared at him in disbelief for a moment, and then she slipped out of her chair to kneel in front of him. She covered his hands with her own and looked up at him.

"Greg, I told you this morning that you were the consummate gentlemen, and you have just proven that to me once again. Now, listen to me carefully, because I am only going to say this once. I loved my husband with all my heart, and when he died, I told myself that I would never love again. I have not even dated since that day. I have had no interest in any man whatsoever.

"Yesterday, when I walked into that restaurant and saw you sitting there, although you looked familiar, I truly did not recognize you. After all, I hadn't watched anything about the bombings for over a year. Even when I got the invitation to the memorial ceremony, there was no mention of you."

Greg opened his mouth to comment, but she moved her hand to place one finger over his lips. "No, don't talk; let me finish. This has nothing to do with your job or what happened to my husband. Last night, I cried because I realized that Monday's ceremony would be the end of an eighteen month-long mourning period of my life. I have held in the hurt and pain for a year and a half, never really letting it go. Sure, I talked to people, but deep down I thought that if I didn't continue to dwell on it, I would forget John, and I would have nothing left. I would be alone. But then I met you. You are so handsome and kind, and when we first started to talk, I thought to myself that I had finally found someone whom I might be able to get to know better. When I realized who you were, I knew that you were also someone who understood what I had gone through. The combination of kindness and understanding made you even more attractive to me. When I told you about John, I felt for the first time that it was okay to let him go. I felt like he was telling me it was okay."

Lynn moved forward until she was sitting up on her knees between Greg's legs, her hands on his thighs. This movement brought her eyes level with his. Her touch and the way she was staring at him instantly caused a reaction that he wasn't sure he wanted to control at this point. He didn't trust himself to touch her back, so he sat still, hands gripping the arms of the chair, and waited for her to finish.

"Greg, I think I have finally found someone who can fill the emptiness I've been feeling. John would never have wanted me to be alone for the rest of my life, any more than I would have wanted him to be if he had lost me. I know we just met, and I really appreciate your concern, but I am a big girl, and I promise that I will tell you if something is started that I don't want to finish." With that, she raised her right hand and gently caressed his cheek.

It was more than he could stand, and he grabbed her upper arms and pulled her to him. He stared into her beautiful blue eyes, which had captivated him from the first time he saw her. "Are you sure?" he whispered huskily.

"Positive," she breathed back, and he let his fears go and brought his lips to hers.

The first touch was little more than a brushing of their mouths against each other, but a surge of electricity raced through his body. He groaned as he shifted his hands until one was at her back and the other was cupping the back of her head. Without breaking contact, he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer and moving his mouth sensually over hers. The moan that escaped her emboldened him further, and he gently probed her lips with his tongue until they separated and he was allowed entry. When their tongues met, another jolt went through him. He explored her lips and mouth thoroughly as his left hand roamed over her back, and his right tangled in her luxurious curls. Her hands had also moved, with one behind his neck and the other firmly splayed on his chest.

They finally broke the kiss as the need for oxygen became urgent, and Greg pulled back slightly so that he could look at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were closed, and her swollen lips were parted, her breath coming out in quick, short gasps. His own breathing was rapid and shallow, and as he watched her, she opened her eyes, looked directly into his, and smiled.

"Wow!" she breathed. "That was incredible."

He smiled back, and slowly stood, bringing her with him. "I agree," he managed. His eyes strayed to her mouth again, and his breathing quickened further as his voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "Incredible enough that I want to do it again," and he quickly claimed her lips for a second time. Their arms wrapped around each other as they kissed passionately, their mouths moving against each other, and their tongues dancing together. Greg spun Lynn around and moved her backwards until she was against the door, and he pinned her there with one hand on either side of her head, his body pressed against hers. He broke off the kiss, only to move his mouth down her jaw to her neck. She brought her head back as far as she could to give him greater access, and he nipped and suckled the pulse point under her jaw. She began to moan softly, and her hands moved to his head, but he grabbed them with his and held them above her head.

"No." He raised his head just long enough to speak that one word.

He held her against the door, preventing her from touching him, and resumed his ministrations. His lips and teeth traced a path down her neck to the indentation between her collarbones. He flicked his tongue out and tasted the sweat that was beading in that spot. She moaned again, louder this time, and squirmed against him. He felt like he was about to lose control completely, but he forced himself to go slowly. His right hand trailed down her arm and cupped her cheek. He lifted his head to bring his mouth back to hers, swallowing the moans.

After what seemed like forever, Lynn freed her hands, placed them on Greg's chest, and pushed him slightly away from her. Not far enough away to separate them fully, but enough that they were no longer kissing. She could feel his heart pounding through his shirt, mimicking the beating of her own. She opened her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Greg," she whispered, "stop, please."

He looked at her in confusion. "What…what's wrong?"

Her lips curled in a small smile, and she slid her hands around to the back of his neck. "Nothing is wrong; as a matter of fact, everything is so right that I am afraid we will go too far."

"Oh," he breathed, pulling away from her a little more. Somewhere in his addled brain a tiny spark of reason still remained, and he knew she was right. After all, they had known each other less than a day, but his body was trying its best to overrule his brain.

He cleared his throat and reluctantly moved back until he was only holding Lynn's hands.

"You're right," he said. "This is moving too fast." He hated admitting that, but he knew that they both might regret it if they continued down this road. "To tell the truth, I think that I should go now," he continued.

"Wait," Lynn said, pulling one hand free to clutch his arm, "I didn't mean that you had to leave."

"I know, but I also know that if I don't, I may not be able to stop myself from taking this farther than either of us wants to go right now."

He gently took Lynn by the arms and moved her away from the door. He let his hands once again caress her arms as he looked into her eyes.

"I would like to see you again tomorrow, if that's all right," he said softly.

Lynn smiled and nodded her understanding. "That would be wonderful," she replied.

"Good. What time are your children flying in?"

"Their plane lands at ten thirty."

"Perfect. How does breakfast sound? Then I can take you to the airport if you'd like."

She put her hands on his waist. "Breakfast sounds great, but I think I should meet their plane alone." She chuckled as she continued, "I don't think I want to have to explain you right off the bat."

"Ha! I guess you are right. Will I meet them later, though?"

"Of course you will, although, I think that at this point you should meet them after the ceremony, and then, only as Sergeant Greg Parker. They all know who you are, of course, and I don't want them to feel uncomfortable about…this."

Greg frowned, and his hands stopped their motion. "But that means that after breakfast, I won't see you until Monday afternoon. I'm not sure I can handle that, Lynn."

A small laugh escaped Lynn, and she brought a thumb up to trace Greg's downturned lips. She became serious, however, when he grabbed her hand and gently kissed the pad of her thumb.

She took a deep, shaking breath and said, "Greg, I don't want to be away from you that long either, but I am not ready for my children to know about us yet. Think about it from their point of view. Their mother is far from home, grieving for her late husband, and she hooks up with 'The Hero of Toronto' the day after she arrives. I don't think that would come across very well. You had the same reservations, so you wouldn't be able to blame them if they did, too. I want them to like you, and they won't if they think you are manipulating me."

Greg nodded. "You are right, of course. I hadn't thought of it that way." He reluctantly released Lynn. His hands immediately itched to grab her again and pull her to him, but he checked that impulse. "I will force myself to wait, although it will not be done happily." His smile told Lynn that he really was okay with her decision, though.

"Thank you, Greg."

"You are more than welcome, Lynn." He leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on her lips and then moved to retrieve his cane from where he had placed it next to his chair. He walked to the door and opened it. "I will see you tomorrow, okay? Eight o'clock again?"

"Eight o'clock," she agreed.

As he moved to leave, he felt Lynn's hand on his arm. He looked back at her, and she said, "Greg?"

"Yes?" He turned to face her again.

"I just wanted to say that the perfect day ended perfectly."

He let the back of his right hand gently caress Lynn's cheek, and then he reluctantly left the room, closing the door behind him. When he heard the click that told him it was shut, he leaned back against it, resting his head against the wood. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. After a while, he managed to get himself under control, and he pushed himself away from the door.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

It was only a little after six thirty when Greg walked out of the hotel and handed his ticket to the valet. As he waited for his car to be brought around, he looked up at the sky, which was still the same brilliant blue. The temperature was very comfortable, in the high 60s, and Greg had to admit that Lynn was right: the perfect day had ended perfectly.

The valet stopped in front of him, left the car idling, and relinquished the driver's seat to Greg. Greg slid into the car and started the drive to his apartment. He had only gone a few blocks when he changed his mind, however. At a red light, he dialed Eddie's number. It was answered on the first ring.

"Greg? Where in the hell have you been? You don't call, you don't write."

"Good to hear your voice, too, buddy," Greg chuckled. "Hey, I was wondering if you were busy right now."

"Nope, just hanging out at home. Why? You want to meet somewhere?"

"I would actually just like to come over there if that's all right. I need to talk to you."

"Sure thing. We're just about to have dinner, but if you're close, I'm sure Sophie can set another place for you."

"That would be great." Greg suddenly realized that he and Lynn had never ordered the room service that had been mentioned, and his stomach growled. "I haven't eaten since lunch. I'm about fifteen minutes away. See you soon." He hung up just as the light turned green.

He arrived at Eddie's house in less time than he had expected, and he walked up the pathway to the front door. When he rang the doorbell, it was answered by Ed immediately.

"Hey, Greg, come on in," he said, throwing an arm around Greg's shoulder and ushering him into the house. "Sophie's in the kitchen finishing up. Want something to drink?"

"Yeah, thanks," Greg replied, sitting down on the living room couch.

Ed didn't need to ask what he wanted, because Greg always drank a Diet Coke when he came over. No one else in the Lane household liked the soda, but Eddie made sure there were always a few in the fridge for his friend. He came back into the living room, Greg's Coke in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

Greg nodded his thanks and took the can. As he popped the top, he asked, "So, where are Clark and Izzy?"

Ed's son, Clark, was the same age as Dean, and he was living at home while going to college.

"Clark's studying at the library, and Izzy's with Sophie's parents."

It suddenly dawned on Greg that it was Saturday night. Saturday nights were Ed and Sophie's date nights.

"Oh, geez, Ed, I'm so sorry. I've interrupted your date." He placed the soda can on the coffee table and started to stand up.

Ed put his hand on Greg's shoulder and pushed him back onto the couch. "Don't worry about it, buddy. I'm fine, and so is Sophie." He chuckled. "It's not like we had anything huge planned anyway. Just a nice night without the kids. Well, the kids are still not here, so our plans haven't changed at all."

Greg smiled appreciatively and was about to speak when Sophie poked her head into the room.

"Dinner's ready," she announced.

The two men grabbed their drinks and stood up. As they walked to the table, Greg reached out and pulled Sophie into a hug.

"How are you doing, Soph?" he asked.

"Just fine, Greg, thank you." she returned the hug and then held him at arm's length and studied him for a moment. "What about you? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I think so," he said cryptically. "Thanks for letting me crash your date night."

"No problem," she laughed. "You know you are always welcome here."

Greg smiled his appreciation, and the three of them sat down to eat. Sophie had made lasagna, garlic bread, and a salad, and the conversation was light as they ate. Nothing was said about Greg's enigmatic text messages from earlier, and when dinner was over, Greg and Ed helped Sophie clear the table. They would have helped with the dishes, but Sophie insisted that she could handle it just fine and shooed the men out of the kitchen.

They made their way back to the living room and sat down on the couch. Neither of them spoke for a moment, and Ed took that opportunity to study his best friend.

What he saw was a man who was happy, which was not Greg's normal state lately. But beneath the happiness, Ed saw something else he couldn't quite place, but thought might be apprehension. He really wanted to know what was going on. He was a patient man, however, and he knew that Greg would talk when he was ready.

When Greg didn't speak for a few minutes, however, instead just staring at the coffee table, Ed decided to get the conversation going. "So," he said, sitting back against the arm of the couch and turning slightly toward Greg, "what did you need to talk about?"

Greg took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. He let it out slowly and then said, "You remember the woman from O'Malley's last night, right?"

Ed grinned. "Of course I do; she was beautiful, and, unless I miss my mark, she was interested in you."

"You are right on both counts. As a matter of fact, after you left, we talked for quite a while."

At this point, Sophie came into the room. She leaned over and whispered something in Ed's ear, and he smiled and nodded to her.

"Don't mind me," she said to Greg, and then she grabbed a book and headed to the hammock in the backyard.

Greg filled Eddie in on the conversation that had occurred the night before, and then he told him about the day he had just spent with Lynn. He told Eddie everything, even about what had happened in Lynn's hotel room.

"Eddie, she just completely overwhelmed me. I have never wanted to be with a woman so much in my entire life. If she hadn't stopped me tonight, I'm pretty sure I know how this night would have ended."

Ed had remained silent throughout the whole telling, and now he thought carefully. He sat up and clasped his hands in front of him.

"So what's the problem? You like her, and from your story, I'd say she likes you. Is it that she's just visiting? Are you afraid that you are falling for a woman who will be leaving soon?"

Greg started, his eyes going wide. "Wow, I hadn't even thought of that. I guess I didn't want to think about it. But, no, that's not the real problem. Although a long distance relationship is definitely not ideal, I would be willing to try it with Lynn, if necessary. No, the real problem is that I don't know if things will fall apart after the ceremony on Monday. Will she blame me for her husband's death? Or, on the flip side, is this all just a case of hero worship like with Marina?" He stopped and looked down at his hands.

"Well," Ed said slowly, "from what you've told me, she was attracted to you even before she knew who you were, so, from that, I'd say hero worship is out."

"But she said I looked familiar, so maybe subconsciously she did know who I was, and that is what she found attractive."

"I suppose that is possible. Now, don't interrupt. About the other part, you can't know what will happen after Monday. She may be angry, although I think it would be anger at the situation, not at you. She may realize that she has made a big mistake and never want to see you again. There are a thousand scenarios that may happen. But you have to remember that one of them is that she may have the exact same feelings for you as you do for her. It all boils down to this: I think you owe it to yourself and her to just let this play out and see what comes of it, if anything."

Greg sat silently and thought about what Eddie had said. He certainly hoped that Lynn returned his feelings, and if the kisses at the hotel were any indication, he had good reason to think she did. He was still afraid of how things might change once the highly emotional ceremony was over, but he realized that Ed was right. There was no sense in worrying about it, because nothing he could do between now and then would change anything. He also realized that Lynn was right about them not seeing each other after tomorrow morning, not only for the reasons she had stated, but because that time apart would let both of them think about what had happened and what they wanted to happen in the future. Even though he had only known Lynn one day, Greg was absolutely certain that he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible before she went home. He hadn't even considered what would it would be like when she did go home, but he saved those thoughts for later.

He looked at Ed and smiled. "You know what? You're right. I'm just going to take it as it comes. What happens, happens. Roll with the punches."

"Okay, okay," Eddie laughed and raised his hands in surrender. "Enough with the clichés already! Seriously, though, Greg, I'm here if you need me; you know that."

"I do, buddy, thanks." The men stood up, shook hands, and walked to the door.

Greg opened the door and then turned back to Ed. "Tell Sophie bye for me," he said, looking at his friend gratefully.

"Will do," Ed replied, and Greg headed for his car.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Greg was back at The Hazelton promptly at eight the next morning. He and Lynn had decided to eat breakfast in the hotel's restaurant to save time. There seemed to be a silent agreement that nothing of substance would be spoken of while they ate, but the meal was still very pleasant, and they held hands whenever they weren't eating.

One topic, however, caused a slight amount of friction. As they were waiting for the check, Greg insisted on driving Lynn to the airport, and she insisted on taking a cab. After a few minutes, though, Greg came out victorious. He told Lynn that it was silly to pay cab fare when he was perfectly willing to drive her.

"Besides," he said, "you don't know the airport, and I do. I will make sure that you get to the right meeting place, and then I promise to leave you to meet your kids alone." Although, I won't like it one bit, he added to himself.

Lynn smiled and nodded. "All right, Greg, you win."

Greg grinned like a schoolboy who had just been given a valentine from the girl he liked.

"Great! That's settled, then."

The waiter came with the check, and Lynn signed for it using her room number. After the waiter left, Greg stood up and walked behind Lynn, pulling her chair out for her.

Lynn really appreciated these little acts of chivalry. John had also believed that men should treat women with respect, and it was comforting to know that Greg had the same habits. She had never thought that holding a door or pulling out a chair was condescending or insulting. On the contrary, she felt that these acts showed that the man truly cared about making the woman feel special.

"Thank you, Greg," she said, and her smile warmed him.

"Don't mention it," he replied and placed his hand around her waist.

They got to Toronto Pearson International Airport just after nine thirty, and Greg parked in the short-term parking lot. When they entered the terminal, the first thing they did was check the arrivals board. Lynn's family had taken a non-stop flight from Denver, and the board showed that it was on time. Greg knew that Lynn wasn't allowed to go directly to the gate to meet her family, so he guided her toward the baggage claim. Just outside this area was a space designed for meeting arriving passengers. Greg led Lynn to a bench near the windows and sat down.

Lynn looked at him suspiciously. "I thought you said you were leaving now, Greg."

"I will, don't worry," he replied, getting settled on the bench. He reached up, took Lynn by the hand, and pulled her down next to him. "But it's only nine thirty. Their plane doesn't land for another hour, and then they have to go through customs. That will take at least another half an hour." He grinned at her. "I promise to leave before eleven, all right?"

She smiled and relaxed against him when he put his arm around her shoulder. "All right." She let out a little laugh. "I guess I didn't realize how nervous I am."

"Nervous about what?" he asked.

"The ceremony tomorrow, my kids meeting you, just everything," she said and then fell silent, her head on his shoulder and her hand on his thigh.

Greg caught his breath as she unconsciously began to trace small circles right above his knee, and he pulled her more tightly to him, softly kissing the top of her head. Her hair had a marvelous smell, but he couldn't quite place it. All he could recognize was a slight minty aroma, but there was something else, too. The two of them sat in silence for a while, merely enjoying the contact and companionship.

They eventually began to talk again. Lynn talked about her childhood growing up in the mountains of Colorado. She spoke of spending summer days roaming the woods with her friends, finding abandoned cabins and using them as playhouses. She said she had been born in Chicago, but her parents had really loved Colorado, so they had moved there when she was just over one year old. She had an older brother and an older sister, and the three of them spent their childhoods living outside of a small town on the western slopes of the Rocky Mountains. She had met John when she was seventeen years old and a junior in high school. He lived in Grand Junction, about fifty miles to the west, but his grandparents had moved to her town when they retired, and he came often to visit them. He was six years older than she was, and her parents were not thrilled with the idea of them seeing each other, but he was a decent, loving man, and their hearts were quickly won over. John and Lynn dated for two years and married in the summer, one year after she graduated, and moved to his home in Grand Junction.

Their life had been perfect. She got pregnant almost immediately, and within eight years, five children had been born to them. They decided together that it was best for her to stay at home with the children, and, since John's job paid more than enough, Lynn was able to be with her kids full-time. She and John attended every school play, every sports game, and helped chaperone most school functions. All five children attended the same schools, so the Mitchell family became very well-known in the educational community. Her children were involved in sports, band, and other school activities, and the Mitchell parents were just as involved, holding positions with parent-teacher organizations, band boosters, and as team parents. As they grew up, Lynn began to make plans to go to college herself. She ended up getting her teacher's certification and began working in the high school her children were attending. There were things she saw in the public school system that she thought could be improved upon, and she decided that the only way to implement her ideas was to start a private school. Her school, The American Academy of Distinction, was now in its fourth year, and she felt that it was the best move she had ever made.

Greg had not spoken while Lynn told her story, but when she finished, he began his own. He had been born in Scarborough, an only child. He grew up there, doing typical city kid things: playing street hockey in front of his house, using coats or trash cans as goals, riding bikes to the corner store with his friends, and, as he got older, taking a cab downtown to see a movie. He had a wonderful childhood with loving parents and good friends. When he was sixteen, there was a career day at his secondary school. One of the professionals that came to speak was a member of the Toronto SRU. Greg was instantly hooked. He knew then that he wanted to be a police officer. He did intense research on the necessary requirements for applying and made sure that he completed everything. He poured himself into learning everything he could about police work. Immediately after graduation, he began the process of becoming a Police Constable.

The day he received the rank of Constable was the proudest day of his life. On that day, he vowed to be the best police officer he could and to never compromise his integrity. His parents were at the ceremony, and it was the first and last time he had ever seen his father cry.

He rose quickly through the ranks, and eventually became a detective in Homicide Division. He spent five years there, witnessing some of the worst atrocities one person could inflict on another. He was more than ready to move on when he heard of an opening in the SRU. He jumped at the chance to be a part of a team that could help resolve situations before they escalated into what he had seen the past years.

Out of the hundreds of applicants for the position, he had been chosen. When he was informed of this decision by the team Sergeant, he hadn't been able to stop the tears that had suddenly blurred his vision. He had blinked them back, though, and firmly shook the hand of his new Boss.

"Thank you, sir," he had said huskily. "I won't let you down."

"I know you won't, son," the Sergeant had replied, and then led Greg to the supply room to get his new gear.

Ten years and eight months later, having progressed from team member, to team leader, up to the Sergeant of Team One, Greg found himself in the middle of the worst terrorist attack Canada had ever known.

Lynn had not said a single word as Greg talked, and when he finished, she simply smiled up at him. He slowly leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. They separated, and he pulled her to him again.

"You know," he began, "we are two incredible people."

He sounded so completely serious that Lynn could not help but laugh.

"What?" he said, sounding offended, but with a smile that said otherwise. "We are. You, Lynn Mitchell, mother of five fantastic children and founder of her own school, and me…"

"Staff Sergeant Gregory Parker, The Hero of Toronto," she finished for him.

"Exactly," he chuckled, squeezing her shoulder. As he did, he glanced up at the clock on the wall and saw that it was almost eleven. The time had just flown by. He sighed deeply, bowed his head, and closed his eyes.

"Greg, what's wrong?" Lynn sat up and looked at him.

"Nothing," he replied. He reluctantly opened his eyes and raised his head. "It's just that it is time for me to go, and I don't want to."

Lynn smiled and said, "Gregory Parker, I do believe you are pouting."

"No, I'm not," he said petulantly, but she was right. He felt like he used to when he was six and his mother wouldn't let him get a candy bar at the store.

She reached a hand to his face and traced the frown lines between his eyebrows. "Yes, you are. Five children, remember? I know pouting when I see it." She leaned forward and kissed the spot her fingers had just left, her lips feeling like a brand on his skin.

He sighed again and cupped her face. "I can't believe how much I am going to miss you, Lynn," he said sincerely.

She instantly became serious and moved her hands to his shoulders. "I know, Greg, believe me, but we'll be together again tomorrow afternoon."

"Damn it, that's too long!" Greg ground out, and he crushed his lips to hers; he didn't care that they were in the middle of the airport with people pointing and whispering.

It wasn't a long kiss, but it was so full of desire that it left them both breathless. As they pulled apart, Lynn pulled Greg's hands down and gently squeezed them.

"Greg, you really have to go." Her voice was thick with need and regret.

"I know, I know," and he kissed her hands before standing up. He slipped his hands out of hers and grabbed his cane. "I will see you tomorrow," he said, his voice filled with anguish and promise.

Lynn simply nodded, and Greg turned away. When he got to the terminal doors, he looked back. She was still watching him, and when she saw him turn, she raised one hand in a wave and smiled. He waved back but couldn't bring himself to return the smile. The simple act of walking away from her made it feel as if his heart was being ripped from his chest.

As he got to his car, he realized that he had fallen fast and hard for Lynn Mitchell.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

The time away from Lynn turned out to be a good thing, although Greg didn't want to admit it. As soon as he arrived at his apartment, his phone began to ring. He spent the rest of the day finalizing plans for the next day's ceremony. Hours were spent making sure that every detail was covered; everyone involved wanted to make sure that nothing went wrong. Although he never left his apartment, Greg still felt exhausted at the end of the day, and, after a quick dinner, he fell into bed early, making sure to set his alarm first. The ceremony was set to begin at ten forty-five, but he had to be there by seven o'clock.

He woke the next morning before his alarm sounded, and he flipped the switch to 'off' before getting up to shower. As the water streamed over him, he ran the ceremony's program through his mind. It would start with a flag ceremony, with the Canadian flag and the American flag presented, the mayor speaking briefly about that tragic day, and then, at 11:36, Greg would come to the podium. He would call for a moment of silence, and then, at 11:38, a bell would sound, after which, Greg would begin reading off the names of the victims, the bell sounding again after each name. This part of the ceremony had to be timed perfectly, because the first bomb had detonated at exactly 11:38. He would read the names of the dead at the Health and Welfare Office first, followed by the City Hall victims, and lastly, the three from the Casey Jeffers Building. He thought it was fitting that Donna and Jimmy would be named last, as they were the only first responder fatalities, and he wanted their names to be in everyone's minds. The rest of the ceremony would be taken up with the unveiling of the monument. There were also some plaques to be given out to those people who had performed admirably that day. Greg knew that he was to be one of the recipients, along with the other members of Team One. He honestly wasn't looking forward to that part.

He finished his shower and put on his dress uniform, making sure that everything was perfect. He ate breakfast and headed toward the memorial site. The location was in Queen's Park, chosen because it was roughly in the center of the rectangle formed by the four locations where bombs had detonated. At least, he thought, there are no names to read from the Emergency Medical Services Building. He shuddered as he once again thought of the fact that he could have been reading off Sam's name today. He arrived at the memorial site and parked in his reserved spot.

When he got to the stage, the rest of his team was already there: Eddie, Spike, Sam, Jules, and Leah. Winnie was also with them, having been the one who helped keep them all together that day. He felt a surge of pride fill him when he saw them in their dress blues. It still pained him when he thought about the fact that the team would never work together again, but he was intensely proud to be with them today. He walked up to them, handshakes and hugs going all around. They talked for a moment about how they were all doing, and Greg pointedly ignored the inquisitive look that Eddie gave him. He wasn't about to get into that now.

The time passed quickly as they went through the last-minute preparations, and it seemed like just moments before the families of the victims began to arrive, filling the rows of seats that had been reserved for them. Greg watched intently, barely hearing the noise around him, as he watched for Lynn and her family. He had pulled some strings and reserved seats for them in the first visitors' row, and it wasn't long before he saw them walking down the center aisle. He was standing in the staging area to the side of the stage, and his breath caught in his throat when he looked at her.

She was wearing a white blouse underneath a dark blue jacket, a black knee-length skirt, and black pumps. He had not had an opportunity to see her legs before, since she had worn slacks and jeans, and now he couldn't seem to drag his eyes away from them. They were shapely and well-formed, clad in nude nylons. The pumps accentuated them, and Greg couldn't help but think she was more beautiful today than he had seen her yet.

He jumped a little at the touch on his shoulder, and he blushed when Ed whispered in his ear, "You're being a little obvious, Greg; you might want to tone it down a little."

Greg nodded and forced himself to look at anything but Lynn. It was then that he noticed the people surrounding her. There were four men and three women in the group. He knew that three of the men were her sons and the other was her son-in-law. Two of the women were her daughters and the third was her oldest son's fiancé. He could easily pick which were her children because one of the men was holding the hand of one of the women, so that had to be John with his fiancé, and another man was holding the hand of another of the women, and she was obviously pregnant, so that had to be May and her husband. The three unattached people had to be her two other sons and youngest daughter.

They made a fine-looking group, and Greg was happy that Lynn could have her family here with her for this. He only wished that he could be sitting with her as well. He was about to turn away to prepare for the ceremony when Lynn suddenly looked up and locked eyes with him as if she could feel him watching her. She smiled slightly, and he returned it briefly before breaking contact and moving to his predetermined position for the opening of the ceremony.

He was to sit on the stage the entire time, while his team was part of the many police, firefighters, and paramedics who would fill the first five rows in the audience. He just hoped he could keep his mind and eyes on his task and not let either of them wander to Lynn.

The seats in the audience quickly filled, first with victims' families, and behind them, members of the general public. Exactly at nine o'clock, he joined the mayor and others as they climbed the steps to the stage and stood in front of their seats. The caller for the color guard stepped to the microphone.

"Everyone, please rise and remove your hats."

Greg's hat remained on, but he snapped to attention, as did the rest of the first responders that were present. He saluted smartly as the flag bearers made their way down the center aisle, holding his position as they placed the two nations' flags in the stands on the stage, and as the national anthems of both nations were played, first "O Canada," and then "The Star-Spangled Banner."

When the flag ceremony was completed, and the color guard dismissed, everyone sat down. The mayor walked to the podium and gave his short speech, none of which Greg actually heard. He was too busy taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself before he had to perform his part. He was not at all sure he could get through all fifty-seven names without breaking down, but he was going to do his best.

He brought his attention back to the mayor as he heard him say, "Please welcome Staff Sergeant Gregory Parker of the Toronto Police Service."

He stood and walked to the podium as the audience broke out in respectful applause. He shook the mayor's hand and whispered a thank you. He leaned his cane against the podium and looked at the clock on the top of it. 11:37. Perfect.

He placed the list of names in front of him and took a deep breath. Looking out over the audience, deliberately not looking at Lynn, he began, the applause dying down as he raised his hand.

"Thank you very much. I would now ask that we observe a moment of silence in remembrance of the lives that were lost to us."

Not a sound came from anyone as the clock ticked slowly toward 11:38. Greg watched the seconds pass, and exactly on time, a small bell rang to his left.

"Andrew Robert Palmer, age 32, York, Ontario, Canada." Ding. "Ann Kay Nguyen, age 25, Port Colborne, Ontario, Canada." Ding. "Reisa Helen Calderwood, age 19, Selkirk, Manitoba, Canada." Ding.

Greg continued down the list, pausing slightly before each name. He was doing all right until he got to the last name on the list of the Health and Welfare victims. He had to stop and swallow the lump in his throat before he could continue, but a tear still escaped his eye and slowly traced a path down his cheek.

He sniffed and raised his white-gloved hand to wipe it away as he said, "Ethan Walker Lee, age 5, Clarington, Ontario, Canada." Ding.

The list continued on with the City Hall victims, and again, he did fine until about halfway down.

"John Thomas Mitchell, age 51, Grand Junction, Colorado, United States of America." Ding.

He couldn't resist glancing up at Lynn. She had her head buried in her son's chest, and even from that distance, he could see her shoulders shaking. He desperately wanted to be the one comforting her, but he knew he had a job to finish.

He read more and more names until he got to the last three. The first of these three was bitter on his tongue, for if it hadn't been for this man, none of this would have happened. He was still a victim, however, and Greg read his name.

"Anson Pascal Holt, age 61, Mississauga, Ontario, Canada." Ding.

That left the last two. He was unable to stop the tears now, and they fell freely. His voice shook as the words left his mouth.

"Sergeant Donna Anne Sabine-Gerald, age 42, Brampton, Ontario, Canada." Ding. "Constable James Robert Campbell, age 38, Toronto, Ontario, Canada." Ding.

The silence that followed the last bell was broken only by quiet sobs from the audience. Greg gathered his papers, grabbed his cane, and slowly walked back to his seat. As he sat down, the man sitting next to him placed his hand on Greg's back, silently comforting him. Greg raised his tear-stained face to him and nodded his thanks.

The mayor had gotten back to the podium and was asking everyone to stand and turn toward the canvas-covered monument to the right of the stage. Greg stood with everyone else, wiping his face as he did. He again snapped to attention and saluted as a group of first responders slowly drew the canvas from the granite slab.

When it was revealed, a subdued gasp came from the audience. The monument was absolutely beautiful. Crafted from black granite and polished to a glorious shine, it was seven feet tall and eight feet wide. On it was etched the same list that Greg had just read, the words gilded in gold. On the top corners of the monument were carved the Canadian and American flags. Between the flags was the date of the bombings along with the phrase, "Rest in Peace." A small moat surrounded the monument, which was in turn encircled by a flower bed filled with marigolds, signifying grief; bellflowers, signifying loss; and gladioluses, signifying remembrance.

There was no applause or noise as people simply studying the monument. After a few moments, the mayor invited everyone to be seated, and he began the last part of the ceremony.

"A year and a half ago, this city endured the worst day in its history. The terror that had struck numerous cities around the world finally came to our shores. Too many people lost their lives that day, and it is those whom we memorialize forever. However, we would also like to acknowledge those who laid their lives on the line to help control the chaos, to rescue those who were trapped in the collapsed buildings, and to find the man responsible for this horror."

With that, the mayor began to read out the names of police officers, firefighters, doctors, paramedics, 911 dispatchers, and other emergency personnel who went above and beyond their call of duty that day. Each of the recipients came up to the stage and accepted their plaque while shaking the mayor's hand. The audience clapped respectfully after each presentation. This continued for about forty-five minutes, and then there were only seven plaques left.

The mayor paused and waited until the audience was quiet.

"These last recognitions go to a group of individuals who did the most to save the city that day. These individuals not only found the man responsible, they also diffused several additional bombs, preventing unimaginable chaos, death, and destruction, all at serious risk to their own lives. Although a fourth bomb was detonated, this team made sure there was no further loss of life. Please help me thank Staff Sergeant Gregory Dean Parker, Sergeant Edward Tucker Lane, Constable Samuel William Braddock, Constable Julianna Marie Callaghan-Braddock, Constable Michelangelo Abele Scarlatti, Constable Leah Anne Kerns, and Constable Edwina Audrey Camden."

There was no polite applause this time. As Greg stood and his team rose from the audience to walk to the stage, everyone else also stood, and a thunderous round of applause ensued. Greg hated the attention, but he knew how the city saw him and his friends. They were heroes in the eyes of the people, and nothing he could say would change that image. His team solemnly climbed the steps, took their plaques from the mayor and shook his hand. It had been determined early on that Greg would be the spokesman for the group, and he resumed his spot at the podium, the other six forming a half-circle behind him. The audience slowly quieted and resumed their seats.

Greg breathed deeply and looked at the people sitting before him. They had all been through so much, and he didn't want to make their pain worse. He had struggled with this speech, and he hoped he did the victims, their families, his team, and his city proud.

"Thank you. I am sure I speak for my team when I say that we are honored that you would recognize us in this manner. Along with all of you, that day eighteen months ago was the one of the worst of our lives. It started as one of the best, though. That morning we were attending the wedding of Sam and Jules." He stopped and looked back at them with tears in his eyes. Looking back at the audience, he continued. "We still had to work that day, however, and right after the wedding, we all went to the station. We were only there a short time when we got the call about a suspicious package at the 911 call center. That is what started it. The rest of the day was full of fear, pain, and terror. I know that you may look at all of us: police, firefighters, paramedics, and others and see heroes, but we were just like you that day. We had family members missing and friends who lost their lives. We were injured and scared, and we cried. But through it all, the emergency personnel of this city still did their jobs. I know that not every deserving person was recognized here today, and I would like to say thank you to them all – every police officer who held someone as they grieved, every firefighter who helped someone out of a building, and every doctor or paramedic who treated an injured person. I want to thank the 911 dispatchers and operators who refused to leave when the first bomb was discovered, knowing that there were still people who needed them. I want to thank every person in this city who helped someone else that day, whether it was with water, shelter, or simply comfort. You all are the real heroes. If I could, I would give a plaque to each and every one of you, but know that I think of all of you every day, and I will never forget what this city and its people did for each other that day. Thank you, Toronto, and God bless." And with that, Greg stepped away from the podium.

One person began to clap and then the applause crescendoed into a roar as the audience surged to their feet, clapping not only for the seven people on the stage, but for everyone who performed heroically that fateful day. It continued as Greg's team exited the stage and Greg resumed his seat. Even when the mayor took the podium for the last time, it took quite a while for everyone to quiet down. After Greg sat down, he chanced a look at Lynn. She was applauding just as loudly as everyone else, but her eyes were sad as they locked on his. A small smile formed on her face, though, as he looked at her, and he returned it gratefully.

Eventually, the noise quieted, but Greg heard nothing of the mayor's closing remarks. He continued to watch Lynn; he couldn't help himself. He had an overwhelming urge to race down the stage steps, take her in his arms, and kiss away the sorrow he saw. He forced himself to calm down and managed to sit silently through the rest of the ceremony. It was only about ten minutes later when the mayor thanked everyone for coming and asked them to stand for the retrieval of the flags. Greg stood at attention and saluted for the last time as the color guard removed the flags from the stage and replaced them in holders on either side of the memorial. When they finished and marched to the back of the crowd, the ceremony was over, and Greg let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

He left the stage with the others, and his team, along with Dean, met him at the bottom of the stairs. Dean immediately pulled him into a hug, and he returned it desperately, his eyes filling with tears again. "Great job, Dad," Dean whispered.

"Thank you, son." He held on to Dean as if his life depended on it, and Dean held him just as tightly. The two of them stood there for a long while, not speaking. Finally, Greg pulled away and looked at Dean.

"I want you to know that I love you, Deano, more than anything in the world, and I am honored to be your father. You let me back into your life without knowing how it would turn out, trusting that everything would be okay, and I can never repay you for that. After I got hurt, when I tried to push you away, you pushed right back. You are a good and noble young man, and I only see great things in your future, and I am blessed that you have allowed me to be a part of them." Greg's voice caught, and he pulled Dean back into his embrace and kissed the top of his head.

Spike stepped forward and placed his hand on Greg's shoulder. Greg released Dean and turned to him.

"Sono fiero di voi, il mio padre."* Spike said softly.

The tears in Greg's eyes spilled over, and he grabbed Spike's head and kissed his forehead. "Come io lo sono di te, figlio mio."**

The rest of the team approached him and offered their thanks and hugs. The last to grab him was Eddie. He pulled Greg into a bear hug, his body shaking and his voice thick with the tears streaming down his own face.

"I am so humbled to be able to call you friend, Greg, more than you will ever know."

Greg couldn't speak, he was crying so hard at this point, and he just buried his face against Ed's shoulder. They stood that way for several moments, and then Ed pulled away, cleared his throat, and said, "I think there is someone who wants to talk to you."

Greg looked at him, his mind not working right, but Ed only nodded his head toward someone behind Greg. Greg let go of him, turned around, and saw Lynn standing there with her family. He hastily wiped his eyes and cleared his throat, feeling the familiar ache at the sight of her. Her eyes were swollen and rimmed with red, but they were still just as captivating as ever. As a matter of fact, he didn't think he had ever seen her more beautiful than at this very moment.

He sensed more than saw Ed lead the others away, and by the time Lynn got to him, he was standing alone at the bottom of the steps.

"Sergeant Parker?"

Greg admired the way Lynn was able to speak as if nothing had happened between them. He desperately hoped it was an act, though, and not a change of heart. He wasn't sure what he would do if the latter was the case, but he pulled himself together; he could do this, for Lynn's sake if for nothing else. He smiled graciously and shook her hand. He squeezed her hand slightly and was rewarded with a small smile.

"Mrs. Mitchell, how nice to see you again." He was happy that his voice and hand were steady.

"Nice to see you, too." She removed her hand from Greg's. "I would like you to meet my family. I told them that I had met you earlier, and they really wanted to meet you. This is my oldest son, John, and his fiancé, Amanda."

"Very nice to meet you," he managed, not realizing until now that he was really nervous about meeting them. He shook the hands of the rest of her children and her son-in-law as Lynn introduced each of them.

"We were wondering if you had plans right now, Sergeant. We would like to take you out to lunch, if that works for you," John spoke up.

Lynn smiled as a shocked look passed over Greg's face before he could stop it. He composed himself quickly, however, and hoped her children hadn't seen it. "That would be just fine," he said. "Give me about ten minutes to finish up here, and we can go."

"We'll wait right here," she responded, and he smiled at her before he turned to walk behind the stage.

* * *

_*Sono fiero di voi, il mio padre. = I am proud of you, my father._

**Come io lo sono di te, figlio mio. = As I am of you, my son.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

As he rounded the stage, Greg smacked squarely into Ed who was waiting for him.

"Geez, Eddie, what are you still doing here?" He looked around and noticed that the whole team was still there, as well as Dean, Sophie and Clark, Wordy, and his wife, Shelley. All the little girls were also in attendance, with Sam holding Sadie, Izzy with her arms wrapped around Sophie's leg, and the three Wordsworth girls, Lilly, Claire, and Allie surrounding their parents.

Ed did his best to look offended, but he couldn't quite pull it off. "Waiting for you, of course. We have reservations for lunch, remember?"

Greg raised one hand to his face and groaned. Being around Lynn had completely wiped that knowledge from his mind. He didn't want to let his family and friends down, but Lynn and her family were waiting for him. He dropped his voice to a whisper and said, "I honestly forgot about our plans, Eddie. Lynn's family just invited me to lunch, and I can't tell them that I changed my mind."

"No worries," Ed replied, "just ask them to join us." He turned to the rest of the team and raised his voice a little. "Hey, guys, do you mind if we add a few people to our group for lunch? Greg's met some people he'd like to introduce us to."

No one had any objections to that, and Ed flashed a grin at Greg. "It's settled, then. Go and ask Lynn's family if they want to come with us."

Greg had to admit it was not a bad idea. "All right. Hold on a minute, Eddie," and he turned to round the stage once again.

He didn't miss the amused look on Ed's face, but he ignored it and walked back to the Mitchell family. Lynn looked surprised to see him so soon, but she said nothing.

"Lynn, my team is also going out to lunch. What do you think about combining our two groups? They would like to meet you as well."

Lynn thought about it for a moment and then turned to her family. "I don't mind; what do you guys think?"

Her children all agreed; they had heard almost as much about his team as they had about him through all of the news stories, and they welcomed the opportunity to meet them as well. Greg led them to the back of the stage, and the next few minutes were spent with introductions. Greg introduced Lynn to the others, and she in turn introduced her family to everyone. Greg couldn't hide the pride in his voice as Lynn shook hands with Dean, and she thought that he was a fine-looking boy.

With that taken care of, the discussion turned to lunch. Ed had already called O'Malley's the day before and had reserved the large room in back, so there was no problem with the extra people. Ed simply called the restaurant and told them there would be eight more people for lunch. Everyone headed to their cars. Lynn's family had rented a van for the day, and John said he'd just follow Greg to the restaurant.

The drive took about fifteen minutes, but it took about ten more before everyone found a parking spot. Eventually, though, everyone was seated, and orders had been taken. The room had been rearranged so that there was one large rectangle of tables in the room, all the chairs surrounding it. In this way, everyone could see and hear everyone else. Greg had managed to seat himself next to Lynn, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. He sat quietly, simply enjoying Lynn's presence and forcing himself to not look directly at her. He knew that the moment he did, anyone who was watching would know exactly how he felt about her.

On the other side of Greg, Ed was leaning his elbows on the table and talking with Lynn across Greg. Greg simply sat back in his chair and let them continue their conversation. He used this opportunity to watch everyone else. While Lynn's family was on one side of the rectangle and everyone else was along the other sides, there were many conversations going on, both with people next to each other and with those across the table. No one seemed to want to talk about the ceremony or the day they had just memorialized, and all of the conversations were light and inconsequential, though Greg could still feel tension in the air. It was as if the entire room was forcing themselves to be cheerful when what they really wanted to do was break down and cry.

Dean, Clark and Lynn's youngest daughter, Rose, had designated themselves as the babysitters of the group, and they sat at the opposite end from Greg and Lynn, all of the little girls near them in their chairs and highchairs. Greg couldn't hear what they were saying, but Rose had Wordy's girls giggling uncontrollably. Even Izzy and Sadie were laughing, and Dean and Clark were hanging on her every word. The irony was not lost on Greg that his son seemed to be fascinated with the daughter of the woman for whom he had fallen so hard and fast.

Spike was having a discussion with Winnie and William, while May and her husband, Ramon Valdez, were talking with Sam and Jules. Greg could hear bits of these conversations, and he soon realized that William was just as much a geek as Spike. He was reminded that this was the son who was working on his engineering degree, so that didn't surprise him at all. At the moment, they were discussing the latest changes in Java programming. The discussion between the Braddocks and the Valdezes was centered around babies. It was obvious that May was pregnant, and she was asking Jules all sorts of questions while Sam and Ramon talked about how a baby changed your life.

Wordy and Shelley were discussing, or rather, arguing sports with John and Amanda. It turned out that all four of them were huge hockey fans, although, unsurprisingly, the Wordsworths loved the Maple Leafs while the Mitchells supported the Avalanche. James, Leah, and Sophie had joined Lynn and Ed's conversation, but Greg was too busy with watching everyone else to pay attention to what they were talking about, even though they were right around him.

The food came, and the table became quieter as everyone focused on their plates. Greg took this opportunity to slip his hand under the table and briefly lay his hand on Lynn's thigh. He was gratified to feel her jump slightly, and she kicked him in the ankle, frowning slightly without looking at him. He chuckled softly and removed his hand, returning to his lunch. He noticed Eddie glancing at him with an amused smile on his face, and he ducked his head and pretended to fix the napkin on his lap to hide his grin. When he managed to lose the grin, he raised his head and started to eat, but felt someone watching him. He had thought that Ed was the only one who had noticed anything, but he searched the table until his eyes rested on John. Lynn's son was looking at Greg, and when their eyes met, John's eyebrows rose in a silent question. Greg's only response was a slight nod, as if were only acknowledging John's presence, but he felt dread pool in his stomach, and he realized that he had been a fool. With Lynn's family around, he shouldn't have treated Lynn as anything but a recent acquaintance. It was obvious that at least her oldest son had seen his actions, and now Greg feared the consequences. He returned his attention to his plate and tried to calm his turbulent emotions.

The discussions resumed as people finished up, and this time, Greg participated in the conversation around him, pointedly ignoring John. They talked about their families, hometowns, and general things about their lives, most of which Greg and Lynn already knew, having had the same discussion together. They both managed to act as if this was all new information, though, and James, at least, did not seem to suspect anything.

Lunch was concluded, and everyone began to leave, one family at a time, until the only ones left were Ed and his family, Lynn and her family, and Greg. As they prepared to leave, Greg touched Lynn on the arm. "Mrs. Mitchell," he said, "may I have a word with you?"

"Of course, Sergeant," she replied, and the two of them walked off a short distance so that they were out of earshot of the others.

Glancing at the group remaining at the table, Greg whispered, "Lynn, I think John suspects something. I am so sorry; I should have controlled myself better. The last thing I want is a confrontation with your children, either for you or me. So, I wanted to ask you, do you think I should talk to him? See what he's thinking?"

"No," Lynn said thoughtfully, "I'll take care of it. If we do make something of this, I would have to tell them sooner or later, and if it's sooner, well…" she left the thought unfinished.

"So, by 'make something of this,' are you saying you want to see me again?" He brought his gaze back to her, and smiled slightly when he saw the answer in her face.

"My children fly out tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. Can we meet afterwards?"

He held back the grin he wanted to show and simply nodded. "Your children fly out, not you? Does that mean you've decided to stay in Toronto longer? I would really like that," he said quietly.

"Yes, that is what that means," she responded, just as quietly.

"Why don't I pick you up at the airport, then? I will meet you outside of the terminal a little after nine."

Lynn allowed herself a small smile, and she replied, "That sounds wonderful, Greg. I will see you tomorrow, then."

Greg smiled back and the two of them walked back to the table.

"Well," Ed said, when they reached the group, "I guess it's time to get Izzy home for her nap."

Sophie nodded her agreement, and the Lane family left the restaurant after handshakes all around.

"It's time for me to get going, too," Greg said, looking around at Lynn's family.

"It was good to meet you, Sergeant." John held out his hand, and Greg shook it firmly, not surprised when John held on a little more tightly and a little longer than was strictly necessary.

"You as well, John," he replied, looking the other man in the eye. He saw neither anger nor animosity there, but he did see concern and unasked questions. He wished he could speak to him, but he would respect Lynn's decision on this.

"That goes for all of you," he continued, freeing his hand from John's. "While I am sorry for the circumstances, I am very glad to have met you." He shook everyone's hand, ending with Lynn. "I hope you all enjoy the rest of your stay here in Toronto and have a safe trip back home."

"Thank you, Greg, we will." John answered for them all, still watching him intently.

Greg gave everyone one last smile, and then he turned and walked toward the door, outwardly calm, but on an emotional roller coaster inside. John obviously suspected something was going on between him and Lynn, and he did not envy Lynn that conversation. He was concerned for her, for both of them, but at the same time, he felt like doing cartwheels over the fact that she was staying. He also knew that the hours before he saw her again were going to be some of the longest of his life.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Greg slept fitfully, nightmares plaguing his subconscious. When his alarm went off, he started up, momentarily confused concerning his whereabouts. As his mind cleared, the latest dream faded, and all that remained was a vague feeling of loss and pain. He didn't remember any details, but his sheets and blankets were twisted around his body, and he could feel that his pillow was damp with tears. As he got up to shower, his brow wrinkled with concern; he hadn't had nightmares in quite a while, and he knew that the ceremony and the aftermath had brought them on last night.

By the time he finished in the bathroom, however, all vestiges of the night were gone, replaced with a feeling of elation at the thought of seeing Lynn. He surprised himself by actually whistling while he made breakfast, and, if his leg had let him, he probably would have skipped down the hall. He knew that his friends would tease him to no end if they could see him, but he didn't care. He felt good, no, he felt great. A large part of the last eighteen months of his life had been full of pain, regret, guilt, anger, and hate, and even though those feelings were, for the most part, gone, they had only been replaced with resignation and acceptance. Now, however, Greg felt joy and peace and, if he was truly honest with himself, love. Sure, he loved Dean, and he loved his team; he always had, but that was different than the love of a woman.

That thought made him pause as he got ready to leave the apartment. Did he love Lynn? Could he love her already? It had only been three days, and people didn't really fall in love that fast, did they? If someone had asked him those very questions a month ago, he would have thought they were crazy; he had always thought that there was no such thing as love at first sight, but the feelings that raced through him at the thought of simply seeing Lynn's face said differently. He saw her every time he closed his eyes, and his body reacted to the mere thought of the feel of her lips on his, her hands caressing him. The scent of her shampoo was forever branded on his brain, and, even now, as he took a deep breath, he could smell the mint.

Greg slowly sat down on the couch as understanding hit him. He loved Lynn Mitchell. He felt his heart constrict as the thought came to him. He closed his eyes and imagined her before him. His palms itched, and his breath quickened as the desire to touch her, to kiss her, overwhelmed him. He was still there five minutes later, trying to sort out what was happening to him, when his phone rang.

He pulled it out of his pocket and saw that it was Ed. He sighed and answered it.

"Hey, buddy, what's up?"

"Hey, Greg, just calling to see how you're doing. I was on my way to the barn, and I wanted to make sure you're okay."

Greg chuckled, knowing that what Ed really wanted were dirty details. "Sorry to disappoint you, Ed, but I left right after you did, so there's nothing to tell."

"What?" Ed sounded surprised. "I am offended that you would think I was calling for any other reason than to check up on my best friend, to inquire about his well-being."

"Right," Greg retorted. "So, you're not calling to find out if anything happened between Lynn and me yesterday?"

"Of course not," Ed managed to sound insulted, "but, since you brought it up, anything to tell me?"

Greg laughed heartily. He appreciated the relationship he had with Ed more than anyone could ever understand. The two of them had been through a lot over the years, from the absolute best to the gut-wrenching worst, and they had remained closer than brothers. Greg had no brothers, but he felt that God had given him Eddie to fill that role.

"As I said before, I left right after you did. However…" he trailed off mysteriously.

"Yes? Continue," Ed pleaded.

"However, I am on my way to pick up Lynn right now, so I have to go." He really did. He had spent too long on the couch, and now he would have to hurry to get to the airport on time.

"Wait, picking her up? I thought you said she was flying home today."

"No, only her family is; Lynn decided to stay for a while longer." He grabbed his jacket and his keys and headed for his car. As he slipped into the driver's seat, he said, "Look, Ed, I'll fill you in later, but I really need to go." He never talked on the phone while driving. He'd seen the results of that too many times to risk it.

"All right, buddy," Ed said reluctantly, "but you better call me later."

"Count on it," Greg laughed and hung up.

He made it to the airport about 9:05, and Lynn was already standing on the sidewalk waiting for him. She smiled, walked up to the car as he stopped, and reached for the door handle.

"Stop!" she was surprised at Greg's sharp tone. She pulled her hand back as he got out of the car and walked around to open the door for her. His voice softened as he smiled and said, "Please, allow me."

Lynn said nothing as she sat down, but as soon as Greg returned to his seat and pulled into traffic, she looked at him and said, "Greg, you know I appreciate it, but you don't have to always open the door for me."

"I know that," he returned, glancing at her, "but I want to. It makes me feel good to be able to do things for you. It has been a very long time since there has been anyone in my life I wanted to be chivalrous for, so, please, humor me on this."

Lynn gave Greg a smile and reached over to place her hand on his arm, and he almost lost control of the car as she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "All right, if you feel so strongly about it, I sure don't mind. I'm just not used to it, that's all. No one has opened my doors or held my chair since John died." She stopped suddenly, as if she had said something she shouldn't.

"What's wrong?" Greg asked, but then he knew. "Lynn," he said softly, "you don't have to be afraid to talk about John. I don't expect you to forget him or to ignore the life you had together."

"But, I don't want you to think that I'm not content to be with you, Greg, because I am. More than content, actually."

"I appreciate that, but I'm not that thin-skinned. John was a major part of your past, and I know that you will always love him. There is one thing that I ask, however," he said as they stopped at a red light.

"What's that?"

He took this opportunity to look directly at her and take her hands in his. "Please don't ever compare me with him. That's not fair to me or to you. I am not him, and there will be differences and similarities, both good and bad. While I am more than willing to listen to the memories of your life together and help you deal with them, if necessary, I cannot and will not try to live up to an expectation to be like him, or not, as the case may be."

Lynn sat silently for a moment, thinking about what he had just said, and then she nodded. "You're right. I'll do my best to remember that."

Greg smiled. "Thank you, Lynn." He leaned forward and placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. He only released her when the car behind him honked, indicating that the light had turned green.

She laughed as he raised a hand in apology to the driver and pulled away.

Greg had no set plans for this day, so he asked Lynn what she wanted to do. He was surprised when she asked if they could go to City Hall. He immediately agreed, though, and drove downtown. On the way, Lynn asked questions about the rescue efforts that had gone on the day the bomb destroyed the buildings. He answered as honestly as he could, although he hadn't been a part of them, so he didn't know all the details. She didn't ask anything about the people they couldn't save, and Greg was thankful for that. They pulled into the parking garage and walked up to the courtyard in front of the buildings.

Lynn's eyes were wide as she took in the beautiful surroundings. She had seen pictures of City Hall itself and had always marveled at the innovative design, but she had not realized that there was much more to the area than that. She listened intently as Greg pointed out Old City Hall, a gorgeous building located just to the east of them. He explained that it had been built in 1899, and had been the center of city government until 1965 when the current City Hall was opened. It had been scheduled for demolition, but a group of concerned citizens had banded together and managed to have it declared a National Historic Site.

They walked to the reflecting pool and spent some time just sitting on a bench, arms around each other, enjoying the weather and each other's company.

"So," Greg tried to keep his tone light, but the question he was about to ask was anything but, "did you talk to John?"

He felt Lynn stiffen and inhale sharply. She didn't look at him, but he could tell she wasn't pleased when she spoke through her teeth. "I don't want to talk about that right now. Later, okay?"

"All right," Greg said comfortingly, wondering what had happened to make Lynn react like that. It had obviously not been a pleasant conversation, and it worried Greg a little. He didn't say anything else, however, and Lynn relaxed again as they looked out over the pool.

After a while, Greg stood up, pulling Lynn with him. "Come on," he said, "I have something to show you."

They walked back toward City Hall, stopping in front of the saucer-shaped central building. To the right of the main doors was a statue. It was of a firefighter holding a tattered Canadian flag, head bowed, with tears running down his cheeks. At the base was a plaque which read, "In memory of the thirty-one victims of the City Hall bombings of February 9, 2012. May God give them rest."

Greg's arm was around Lynn's shoulder as they looked at the statue, and he said quietly, "There is one just like it at the Health and Welfare Office, and one at Brookfield University."

Suddenly, Lynn turned her face into his chest and began to cry. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her curls, pulling her in tightly. Tears leaked from his own eyes, but they were nothing compared to the sobs that shook Lynn's entire body. They stood there for a long time, Lynn clutching Greg as if he were a lifeline, and Greg gently caressing her, whispering soothing words into her ear.

After what seemed like forever, Lynn took a deep breath and pulled away. She lifted her face to Greg's and gave him a weak smile. She tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat, and no sound came out. Greg gently laid a finger on her lips.

"Shh," he whispered, "It's okay. You don't have to say anything right now." He softly wiped the tears from Lynn's cheeks and then took her head in his hands. Slowly lowering his head, he placed his lips on her forehead almost reverently, and then he enfolded her in his arms again.

"Greg?" Lynn's voice was small and quiet, almost childlike, muffled against his jacket.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

The simple words tore at Greg's heart, and he crushed Lynn to him. He knew in that moment that he would do anything necessary to keep this woman with him. He would move mountains to keep her safe and make her happy. He raised one hand to cup the back of her head and gently pulled it back until he could capture her lips with his. He caressed her mouth, brushing across her with a gentleness that sent sparks shooting along every nerve. He continued this dance for a long moment and then leaned back, breathing heavily. Lynn's breath was shallow, and her eyes were closed. She had gripped the lapels of his jacket so tightly that her knuckles were white.

"Lynn…" he started, and she opened her eyes to look into his. He stopped suddenly. The words "I love you" had just been about to escape his lips, but he caught himself. This was neither the time nor the place to confess his feelings to her. She was still too emotional, and he didn't want to place her in a compromising situation, nor did he want her to think he was manipulating her. Instead, he looked around and chuckled softly. "People are starting to stare. Perhaps we should go somewhere else."

She turned to see that, while most people were completely ignoring them, a few people, mostly couples, were indeed watching them. She let out a small laugh.

"Perhaps you are right," she said, smiling, and she released his jacket, smoothing the wrinkles she had caused before slipping her hand into his. Greg let go of her hand immediately, however, and instead placed his arm around her, pulling her to him as they walked back to the car. Lynn rested her head on his shoulder, her arm around his waist, a contented sigh escaping her. She relaxed into him, and they were silent as they entered the garage. The silence continued until they were seated in the car and Greg was driving toward the exit.

"So," he said, breaking the quiet, "where would you like to go next?" He tried to sound cheerful, to counteract the seriousness of what had just happened, but he didn't succeed entirely. He could hear the sadness in his own voice, the forced cheerfulness, and he was sure Lynn could, too.

She turned to him, smiling sadly as if to confirm his thoughts, and said, "I don't care; you choose this time."

He looked at the clock and saw that it was only a little after ten thirty, so it was too early for lunch. He thought for a moment, and then an idea came to him. "Would you like to visit the SRU?" he asked hopefully.

He was rewarded with a bright smile. "That would be wonderful," Lynn said. "Will your team be there?"

"I don't know," he replied. "I know some of them are on duty today, but they may be out on a call. Either way, I can at least show you around."

They talked as he drove, Lynn asking questions about the SRU and police work in general. Greg happily answered her questions, his job one of the things he was most proud of. They were so engrossed in their conversation that the trip to SRU headquarters seemed to take no time at all.

Greg helped Lynn out of the car, and they walked toward the building. Even though he had been gone a while, officers still stopped him in the parking lot to say hello and shake his hand. Every time he returned here, he was reminded of the fact that the younger officers, and many of the older ones, also saw him as their hero. Shortly after the bombings, one young man had told him that Greg was everything that he wanted to be. Greg tried to politely squash this admiration when it came up; he had no desire to be put on a pedestal. He knew all too well how easy it was for men to fall from that height and the damage that was done, to themselves and the ones who put them there, when they did. He returned the handshakes and greetings, though, and he and Lynn eventually made it to the building. Once inside, they made their way to the front desk. Winnie was seated behind it, looking down at something on her desk, and her head popped up when Greg rapped his knuckles on the desk.

"Sarge!" she exclaimed, coming around the desk to give him a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to give Lynn the tour," he said, returning the hug. Releasing Winnie, he reached behind him and pulled Lynn forward, resting his hand on the small of her back. "Winnie, you remember Mrs. Mitchell from yesterday, don't you?"

"Of course! Mrs. Mitchell, nice to see you again." Winnie shook Lynn's hand while sneaking an inquiring glance at Greg. Greg shook his head just enough for Winnie to see.

"Please, call me Lynn."

"All right, Lynn." Winnie dropped her hand and turned to Greg. "Ed is out on the obstacle course."

Greg grinned. "Fantastic! Thanks!" He took Lynn's hand and guided her down the hallway.

"You seem happy," Lynn commented, excited to see Greg in his element.

"I am. You get to see how Team Sergeants torment their team members," he laughed. Lynn smiled at his enthusiasm and followed him outside to the course.

Once there, Greg walked up behind Ed, who was standing at the finish line of the obstacle course, clipboard and stopwatch in hand. Ed turned at the footsteps behind him, his face breaking into a smile when he saw Greg and Lynn.

"Hey!" he cried, slapping Greg on the back. "To what do we owe this honor?"

Before Greg could answer, Ed looked at Lynn and stuck out his hand. "Mrs. Mitchell, nice to see you."

"Lynn, please," she answered, shaking his hand.

Ed just nodded and turned back to Greg. "So, why are you here?"

"I thought I'd show Lynn just what life in the SRU is like. Well, at least the part here at the barn. Do you mind if we watch?"

"Of course not. As a matter of fact, we're just getting started, and we got a new member." Ed pointed at a young man who was just about to start the course. "Let me know what you think."

"Sure," Greg replied. He watched the constable, dressed in full gear, as he maneuvered the obstacles. There seemed to be no problems as the young man climbed the walls, crawled under the wire, and ran over the balance beam. He grabbed Ed's hand and looked at the stopwatch as the officer crossed the finish line and stood, arms on his head, catching his breath.

"Impressive," he said, nodding his approval. "How about other areas?"

Ed didn't answer until the next officer, who happened to be Spike, started the course, and then he turned to Greg. "Top scores in marksmanship and tactics, and he's not too bad with the negotiating. He's got a long way to go with that, but they all do at first. Remember Sam?"

Greg laughed heartily at the memory, and at Lynn's quizzical look, he explained.

"Shortly after Sam joined the team, we were doing a negotiation drill. Sam was the negotiator, Ed and Lou were suspects who had taken Spike and Jules hostage at gunpoint, and Wordy and I were observing. Sam was doing his best to talk them down, but Lou was having none of that. When he told Sam that the situation would be over if he got some cocaine, Sam froze. Spike and Jules started calling for help, while Ed and Lou started yelling that they would shoot. Sam got completely flustered and frustrated and when Lou said, 'Dude, you know what I want!' Sam responded by yelling, 'I'm not giving you cocaine, jackass!' Ed promptly 'shot' the hostages, while Spike looked at Jules and asked, 'Jackass? Did he say jackass?'" Greg chuckled at the memory, as did Ed.

Lynn laughed, seeing the humor in the situation, and said, "I hope Sam got better before he actually had to negotiate with someone."

"Oh, he did," Greg responded. "It took a while, but he did. He came from a military background; you know, shoot first, ask questions later. Now he's Team Leader of Team Three and one of the best negotiators we have."

Ed nodded his agreement and then nudged Greg, motioning to the course. Spike had finished and was walking over to them, a big grin on his face.

"Boss!" Even though Ed was now Team Sergeant, he was Sarge. In Spike's mind, Greg would be the only Boss he'd ever have. "What are you doing here?"

"Just visiting, Spike," shaking his hand warmly and laying his hand on Spike's shoulder. "Lynn, you remember Spike, right?"

"Of course," she said, also shaking his hand, unable to resist a smile at the grin that was still stretching his face.

"Pleased to see you again, Lynn," Spike said, returning the handshake. "So, Boss, guess what?" He rubbed his hands together like a little boy about to get a Christmas present, the grin growing even wider.

"What, Spike?"

"Babycakes got an upgrade! She is absolutely spectacular now! Not that she wasn't before, but now, wow!"

Greg laughed. "I'd like to see that sometime, Spike, but not today. We're not staying that long."

"Oh, too bad." Spike's face fell a little.

"Babycakes?" Lynn asked.

Spike's grin immediately returned to its former glory. He loved nothing better than to talk about his Babycakes. "She is a Remotec ANDROS F6B anti-explosive robot, and she is the most gorgeous creature in the whole world, well, next to Winnie, of course." He continued to explain the robot to Lynn until Greg stepped in.

"Okay, Spike, okay. You'll overload her brain with all that information."

Spike stopped and nodded, but then he spoke up again. "That reminds me, Lynn, I wanted to tell you that I was very impressed with your son, William. He's got a good head on his shoulders. His appreciation of Java programming and engineering is extraordinary for someone his age."

"Thank you, Spike, I really appreciate that." Pride was evident in Lynn's voice as she spoke of her son. "William was always the brightest in the family. I knew from a very early age that he would end up doing something remarkable with his life."

"He seems well on his way," Spike replied, and gave her a smile as he turned back to Greg. "So, how long are you staying?"

"Just long enough for that officer to complete the course," Greg said, nodded at the woman who was finishing up. "Jules would never forgive me if I left without saying hi to her, too."

Just as he said that, Jules came over, and gave Greg a big hug. "Good to see you, Sarge. I didn't know you were coming by."

"Neither did I, Jules. It was a spur of the moment thing."

"Well, it's great to see you."

The three friends spoke for a little longer as the remaining two members of Team One completed the course, Lynn just listening in, and when the last member finished, Greg turned to Ed.

"Well, we should be going," he said regretfully. Standing there, watching the officers complete the course, talking shop with his friends, he felt the desire to be among them constrict his heart, and it clearly showed in his eyes. Lynn seemed to notice this, and she reached over to give his hand a squeeze.

He gave her a grateful smile as Spike said, "Yeah, we've got to head into the gym, now. I don't think Lynn wants to watch a bunch of guys get all sweaty and smelly."

"Hey!" Jules slapped him on the arm.

"Well, it's even less attractive for her to see a woman get all sweaty and smelly!" Spike laughed and ducked behind Ed as Jules began to rain blows on him.

Greg and Lynn laughed with him, and then said their goodbyes. They could still hear Spike's laughter and Jules' indignant comments as they walked back into the SRU building. Greg showed Lynn the rest of the building, explaining what the different areas were used for, and then, after saying goodbye to Winnie, they returned to his car.

As they pulled out of the parking lot, Lynn placed her hand on Greg's arm and smiled at him. "Thank you, Greg, I learned a lot about you today."

"Me?" he questioned. They hadn't talked about him at all.

"Yes, you," she replied. "I can see that your friends love you and respect your opinions. I saw the admiration that the other officers have for you. That says a lot about you."

Greg could feel his face flush at her words. "Thank you, Lynn," he said softly, "that means a lot coming from you."

They sat in silence for a few blocks, and then Lynn spoke again. "Well, I'm hungry. What should we do for lunch?"

"Oh," Greg said, "I have an idea, but I'll be okay if you don't want to do it."

"What is it?"

Greg took a deep breath before he continued. "I would like to cook something for you at my apartment." He held his breath as he waited for her answer.

"You cook?" she said incredulously.

He released the breath with a huff. "Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, "I didn't mean it that way; let me try again." She cleared her throat and put on a deliberately happy face. She pitched her voice high and said, "You cook? That's fabulous!"

Greg burst out laughing, and Lynn joined him. After they calmed down a little, Lynn said, "Seriously, though, Greg, I would love for you to make me lunch. It's a great idea."

"Fabulous!" he mimicked her in a falsetto voice, and they cracked up again as he turned toward his home.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Lynn was standing on Greg's balcony, waiting for lunch to be ready. They had arrived at his apartment, and Greg had promptly ensconced her on the sofa with the remote, a Sprite, and strict instructions to stay out of the kitchen. He told her to make herself at home otherwise, but that the kitchen was off limits. So, she put the remote on the coffee table and had wandered around the living room, sipping her soda and trying to get to know something about Greg through his things.

His apartment was very neat; nothing was out of place. It had a manly décor, all earth tones and wood, and it was comfortable. There were a few paintings on the walls, but they were very generic, not personal.

She did discover that he had an eclectic taste in music. He owned everything from Mozart to Brian Adams to John Denver. She looked through his collection for a moment and chose a Coldplay CD and slipped it into the player. As the music began, she set her Sprite down on the coffee table and looked down the hallway.

It was a two-bedroom apartment, and the doors to both bedrooms were closed. She didn't feel comfortable going in either one. Greg had told her that Dean stayed over when he wasn't at the college, and she didn't want to invade the privacy of either of them. At the end of the hallway, between the bedrooms was the bathroom. She also felt it was invasive to inspect someone's bathroom, and there were only two other rooms in the apartment, the dining room and the kitchen. Since she could see into the kitchen from the dining room, and Greg had specifically forbidden her to watch him, she stayed out and instead walked to the sliding doors off of the living room. They led out onto a balcony, Greg's apartment being on the third floor. She walked outside and rested her arms on the railing, looking out over the courtyard of the complex. As she stood there, a couple walked along the path below her, and the sight made her think about Greg and her and the conversation she had had with her son the night before.

John had not said a word about Greg the entire trip back to the hotel, and as soon as they arrived, her family had gone to her room. Nobody felt like doing anything, so they all just lounged around, not talking, flipping through television channels but not really interested in actually watching anything. The events of the day had been exhausting, and one could have attributed the silence to that, but Lynn thought of the story about the elephant in the room that no one wanted to acknowledge. She knew that they should talk, and so she said, "I think that was a beautiful ceremony."

It was as if a dam had broken, and everyone started talking at once. They talked about the ceremony and memorial, and about lunch and the people they had spent it with. Lynn's children all agreed that Greg and his family and friends were all very nice people, and they were glad to have been able to spend time with them, but when Greg's name was mentioned, Lynn couldn't help but notice that John's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, and his lips pressed together.

They also talked about John, Sr. They told "remember when" stories, and laughed when they recalled some humorous memory and cried when the memory was sad. After the bombings, they had never sat down as a family and done this. They talked about him in pairs or threes, but never with the whole family together. It was cathartic being able to reminisce about the man they had all loved. The discussion continued on into the evening, and May suggested ordering pizza.

They stayed in Lynn's room until about ten o'clock when John reminded them that they had to be at the airport early the next day. After helping clean up dinner, they all said goodnight to Lynn and left for their separate rooms. She had barely shut the door and kicked off her shoes, however, when there was a knock. She opened the door and saw John standing there, arms crossed over his chest.

"May I come back in?" he asked tersely.

"Of course." She moved aside, and he walked past her to sit on the same chair Greg had occupied on Saturday. She took the other chair and waited for him to speak.

After a pause, John blurted out, "Mom, is something going on between you and Sergeant Parker?"

His abruptness shocked her momentarily, and she didn't say anything right away. She sat there, trying to think of how to approach this. John had obviously seen some of the interactions that had gone on between Greg and her, whether that was the looks they couldn't help but give each other, or the involuntary reaction she had when Greg placed his hand on her leg under the table. She decided that simple honesty was best, so she took a deep breath and said, "Yes, there is."

She was expecting disbelief, concern, confusion, or even tears, but she was not ready for the anger that abruptly darkened her son's eyes. He bolted from the chair and yelled, "Are you insane? What could you possibly be thinking?"

Lynn sat there, staring at her son for a moment, mouth open, before she found her voice. "Wait, John, slow down." She reached her hand out and tried to take his arm.

"No, I won't slow down!" He jerked away from her and stormed toward the door before rounding on her again. "Have you no respect for Dad's memory?"

So that's what this was about. She could understand where John was coming from, but the insinuation that she was disrespecting her husband made her furious. Coupling the accusation with the tumultuous emotions raging through her, Lynn could not control herself. She slowly stood up to face her son.

"How dare you? I loved your father more than you will ever know, and I was devastated when he died. You more than anyone should know that. Remember when you had to drag me out of bed and force me to take care of myself and the house because I couldn't manage to find the will to do anything? Remember how I didn't leave the house for weeks? Remember how I cried myself to sleep for months? Remember?" Her voice had risen to a shout, and she could feel the tears falling down her face, but she couldn't find it in herself to stop. She had walked slowly toward John as she spoke, and the last word was punctuated by a finger jabbing into his chest.

"It has been eighteen months since I lost my best friend and husband. Eighteen months of remembering every day and every night that I will never again see the only man I have ever loved. Eighteen months with no one to come home to at night. Eighteen months with no one to talk to. Eighteen months with no one to touch or hold or simply be with. Eighteen months of knowing that I am alone." Every "eighteen" was accompanied by another jab. "Now I find a man who understands what I have gone through, what I am still going through. He is kind and sweet and funny and courteous, and I like him, and instead of feeling happy for me, you accuse me of betraying your father. How dare you judge me? You have no idea what it has been like for me."

She saw John's anger drain away as she ranted, and suddenly she couldn't face him anymore. Her own anger disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and now she just felt so incredibly tired. She turned away from him and wrapped her arms around herself, desperately wishing they were Greg's arms instead. Her head was bowed, and tears fell at her feet. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to rid herself of the images that had suddenly flooded her mind – the television images of the bombed-out City Hall, the policemen at her door late at night three days after the bombing, the closed casket because her husband's body was too battered and burnt to make a viewing possible, the empty bed that had held her love for so long, and the people, oh, all the people, well-meaning but ultimately failing to understand her grief, her anger, or her loss.

She stood there for what seemed like forever when she felt John's hands on her shoulders. She refused to turn around, though, even when he whispered, "I'm sorry, Mom, so sorry. I never realized…"

She stood, silent and unmoving, until she heard him sigh, felt his hands leave her, and heard the sound of the door closing behind him. At that point, she crumbled to the floor, head pillowed on her arms, and cried until she fell asleep.

If any of her children had tried to get ahold of her before morning, she knew nothing of it. She woke on the floor a few hours after collapsing, stiff and sore from the unnatural position. She managed to pull herself up and climb into bed, fully clothed, where she immediately fell asleep again.

The next day, Lynn woke to the alarm clock blaring. It took her a few moments to remember where she was, and when she did, the tears threatened to start again. She didn't remember specifics, but she was sure she had had nightmares. That hadn't happened for quite a while, but she wasn't surprised considering the memories that had rushed back to her and the fight with her son.

She grudgingly climbed out of bed and into the shower. She had already decided on Sunday that she was going to stay in Toronto longer, but she had not made that decision known to her family. Her plan had been to simply tell her family that she wanted a little more time, maybe learn a little more about where her husband and their father had died, and that was true, but now that John knew about Greg, she was going to have to explain to them all how he fit into the picture. After John's reaction the night before, she was not looking forward to that at all.

She was putting on her shoes, getting ready to go to breakfast when there was a knock on the door. She heaved a sigh and went to open it.

John stood there, hands clasped behind him, looking like he had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Lynn said nothing, but left the door standing open and went to sit on the bed. She looked up just as John stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. He wrung his hands together for a moment, looking at his feet, and then he raised his head to look at her.

"Mom," he began, and then had to clear his throat as the word stuck there. "I just wanted to apologize for last night. I thought about it a lot, and I realized that I had no right to judge you the way I did. You were right; I don't know what you went through. All I could think about was the fact that I had just been reminded of the worst day of my life, and it seemed to me as if it didn't even matter to you, that you had forgotten Dad and hooked up with the first guy you met here. It didn't help any that that guy was involved in Dad's death. Well, not involved, but you know what I mean. But last night, I thought about the fact that I have Amanda to turn to when it gets bad, May has Ramon, and the others have you, but you have no one. Not really. You haven't had anyone since Dad died. We lost a father, but you lost a husband, and I never thought about how that was different, until I imagined how I would feel if Amanda died. I never understood how lonely you must be, but now I think I do, at least a little." He sat down on the bed next to her and gathered her in his arms. "I am so sorry for not paying attention to how much pain you've been in, and I want you to know that I will respect your decisions where Greg is concerned."

Lynn hugged him back and then pulled away to look at him. "Thank you, John; that means a lot to me. Will you do me one favor?"

"Of course, what is it?"

"Don't tell anyone else about Greg and me." She stopped suddenly and grabbed his hands, her eyes wide. "You haven't said anything, have you?"

He smiled and squeezed her hands. "No, I haven't even told Amanda. All the same, I think May suspects something, and James might, too. I don't think William and Rose do, though; he was completely involved in his geeky conversation yesterday, and I don't think Rose's attention left those little girls, or the boys, for that matter, once. If you don't want me to say anything, I won't."

She let out the breath she was holding and smiled. "Good. I don't know what is going to happen between Greg and me, and I don't want to have to explain what may not be anything. The only reason I told you is because you brought it up. That said, I want you to know that I am going to stay in Toronto for a little longer. I think Greg and I owe it to ourselves to see where this is going."

She could tell that John was not exactly happy with this news, but he simply nodded. "What will you tell the others about why you are staying?"

"I'll just say that I want to spend more time where your father died, which is completely true, John. I need to see if I am ready to let him go or not, and if Greg can help with that decision, then so be it."

"All right," John sighed, and he stood up. "Well, we'd better get going if we're going to get breakfast before we have to leave."

As they walked to the door, Lynn reached over and hugged her son. "I love you, John."

"I love you, too, Mom."

The rest of the morning went smoothly, and she saw her children off on their flight without any further confrontations. Amid tears and hugs, they said their goodbyes, and Lynn promised to let them know as soon as she decided when she was coming back.

Her mind came back to the present, but she still stood on the balcony, watching the people below. Her husband had been the only man in her life, ever. Sure, she had had boyfriends in high school, but they never lasted more than a few months. When she met John, though, she knew something was different. They hit it off immediately, even with the age difference, and there had been no one else since then. But, even though she had loved him with everything she was, and she knew he loved her, she had never felt the things she did when she was around Greg. Greg had told her not to compare the two of them, but she couldn't help it when those feelings were so immensely different from anything she had ever known.

When Greg touched her, she felt the shock from head to toe; his hands left trails of fire wherever they went. Just thinking about his lips on hers had a wave of heat flowing through her, and her eyes closed involuntarily. Her hands gripped the railing as she tried to compose herself, but it wasn't happening. She couldn't get the image of his gorgeous brown eyes or the memory of his kisses and caresses out of her head.

When Greg had asked to sit next to her at O'Malley's, she had been pleasantly surprised but wasn't really expecting anything more than a soda or two and some conversation. When he had guided her to the table with his hand on her back, though, she had caught her breath and held it until he released her to sit down. She didn't think he had noticed, but from that moment, every touch, every look, and especially every kiss had branded itself in her memory, and she knew that she would do anything to experience more of them.

She was a little afraid of what she was feeling; it was all so new. The fact that she hadn't been with anyone but John for over twenty-five years didn't help, either. She suddenly realized that she had no idea what she was doing. She hadn't dated since high school, and she certainly had no desire to repeat some of those encounters.

She was trying to figure out what she was going to do when she felt Greg's arms encircle her from behind, felt his breath on her cheek, and all rational thought fled.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he whispered, pulling her to him.

Instantly, desire flooded her, and she placed her hands on his and leaned back into him. "I was thinking about you," she said quietly.

"Really?" She could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm honored. What exactly were you thinking about me?"

She turned in his arms and saw the smile on his face. "I was thinking that I really wanted you out here with me, and look, here you are."

"Great minds think alike, they say," he said lightly, but he pulled her closer, trapping her arms against his chest, and his eyes strayed to her mouth. Without warning, he lowered his head and kissed her. It started off gentle but quickly grew more passionate. Lynn's mouth opened eagerly to Greg's probing tongue, and the two drank from each other as if they had just crossed a desert with no water. Greg's hands began to roam over Lynn's back and arms, and she moaned. This only inflamed him more, and the kiss deepened. Greg pressed her up against the balcony railing, and his mouth left hers to trace a path across her jawbone and up to her ear. She felt herself go weak when he nibbled on her earlobe, but his arms kept her upright.

Greg stopped his exploration with his mouth still at Lynn's ear, and he whispered raggedly, "God, I missed you so much." He gently traced her ear with his tongue, sending a shiver through her entire body. He felt it and smiled to himself, thrilled that he could produce such a reaction.

He continued discovering her with his tongue as he licked down her neck to her collarbone. He gently pulled the collar of her shirt aside, giving him greater access to her smooth skin. As he kissed and suckled the tender area, Lynn freed her arms from his chest and wrapped them around him. What started as gentle caresses on his back soon turned into desperate grabbing as her arousal grew.

"Greg." She couldn't manage anything but his name, but that simple utterance almost pushed him over the edge. He groaned and spun them around. He walked Lynn backwards, still applying lips to her neck, until they were back through the sliding glass doors.

The smells that met them snapped them back to reality, and they both stood up straight, arms still around each other and breathing heavily.

"Right," he said, regretfully, "lunch. That's what I came out to tell you – lunch is ready," even as his stomach growled to add weight to his words.

He still knew that he could easily skip lunch and continue where they stopped, no matter what his stomach said, but he also wanted to make sure Lynn was comfortable every step of the way. He tried to slow his breathing as he looked at her questioningly, and was genuinely disappointed when she said apologetically, "I am hungry, Greg."

"So am I," he admitted sullenly. But not only for food, he added to himself. It amazed him how this woman could make him feel like a child: when he couldn't do or have what he wanted with her, he felt like pouting until he got his way, and when she smiled at him, he felt like laughing for joy and doing cartwheels down the street. When she touched or kissed him, however, the feelings were as adult as possible; then he wanted to carry her to the nearest convenient location and make her his in every way.

He didn't want to release her, but he moved until he only had one hand on her back. Staying like this, he guided her into the dining room and helped her into a chair. Then he excused himself and went back into the living room. He quickly picked out a Michael Bublé CD and put it in the player. Then he walked to the kitchen, smiling at Lynn as he passed.

He came back out shortly with a pitcher and two glasses. He placed them down on the table, held up one finger to tell Lynn to wait, and then returned to the kitchen. When he came out a second time, he had a platter in one hand and a salad bowl in the other. Placing these on the table, as well, he took a chair next to Lynn.

Lynn inhaled appreciatively and smiled. "Wow, Greg, that smells amazing! What is it?"

"It is baked chicken with Monterey Jack cheese and chipotle salsa," he responded as he spooned some onto Lynn's plate. "I hope you don't mind a little bit of spice."

"No, that's just fine," she answered, waiting for him to serve himself before reaching for the salad bowl and putting some on her plate next to the chicken. As she did that, Greg took one glass, filled it with lemonade from the pitcher and placed it in front of her. Then he filled his own glass and served himself some salad. as well.

He watched, somewhat nervously, as Lynn took a bite of the chicken.

"Mmmm," she hummed, "Greg, this is absolutely amazing!"

"I am so glad you like it," he responded. He smiled and settled more comfortably in his chair; he hadn't realized how tense he was, just waiting for her reaction. He considered himself a good cook, but he truly treasured her opinion and was happy to hear her appreciation.

As they ate, their conversation remained light. After they were finished, Lynn helped Greg clear the table, and, as he put the leftovers in containers for the refrigerator, she rinsed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher. Greg couldn't help but think how wonderfully domestic this scene was. It had been a very long time since there was someone in his life who could share this type of simplicity with him, and it felt great.

When the kitchen was clean, Greg led Lynn back to the living room. They sat down on the couch, Greg in the corner with Lynn relaxing against his chest, her knees curled up beside her. He placed his arm around her, closed his eyes, and reveled in the feel of her against him. He was content to stay that way forever, but then Lynn spoke.

"Greg?"

"Mm hmm?" he responded without moving.

"I want to tell you what happened between John and me last night." She had not moved, but Greg could feel her tense up. He could tell from her body language that this wasn't going to be pleasant, and he silently cursed the fact that this conversation had to happen, but he let none of it show as Lynn slowly sat up. She pulled her knees under her until she was kneeling on the couch, facing Greg. She took his hands in hers and stared at them as she recounted what had happened the night before. Greg watched her closely as he listened, his anger flaring when she got to the point where John had accused her of betraying her husband's memory. He knew that if John were standing there right then, he would have laid him out flat for causing Lynn that kind of pain. He gently squeezed Lynn's hands as he heard the pain and anger in her voice, but he made no move toward her. He knew that she had to finish.

She did, ending with the tearful leaving at the airport, and then she took a deep breath and raised her head. Greg could see tears glistening in her eyes, but they didn't fall. He watched as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She held it for a moment and then slowly released it, opening her eyes as she did.

"Greg?" she said softly. "Do you think I am betraying John?"

He saw the concern in her eyes and heard it in her voice, and he wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms, tell her that of course she wasn't, and kiss away all of her worries. He knew that wasn't what she needed, though, and he thought about what to say before he answered carefully, "It doesn't matter what I think, Lynn. What do you think? Do you feel like you are betraying him?"

She cocked her head to one side and looked deeply into his eyes. She didn't speak for several moments, and when the words came, they were steady and confident. "No," she said simply, "I don't. As I said before, John would have wanted me to find someone. It has been a year and a half, and I am tired of being alone. There is nothing wrong with what we are doing or what I am feeling." Greg could tell that she was talking more to herself than she was to him, and he stayed silent. This was validated when Lynn gave a short, decisive nod. Then she sighed and lay back down against him. "No," she whispered, "this is right."

Greg's heart thrilled within him when he heard those words, and he kissed the top of her head and slowly began to rub his hand up and down her arm. Neither of them spoke, and soon, Greg felt Lynn relax further and heard her breathing slow until he knew she had fallen asleep. He sat for a while, just enjoying the feel of her sleeping in his arms, and then his head slowly fell back against the couch, and he, too, drifted off.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Hours later, the sensation of Lynn leaving the couch woke Greg up. He grunted and rubbed his eyes, missing the weight of her against him. He looked around to see where she had gone. He saw the light in the kitchen go on, and he slowly stood up, trying to stretch the kinks out of his neck and back. Failing that, he walked stiffly to the kitchen door, leaned up against the door frame, and stood there silently, arms crossed over his chest. Lynn was standing with her back to him, looking through his refrigerator. He admired her as she pulled the pitcher of lemonade out and turned to get a glass out of the cupboard.

Even though she was forty-five years old and had five children, she obviously took care of herself. Greg had seen too many women who let themselves go after their first child, never mind their fifth, but Lynn had the body of a woman who worked out regularly. Her stomach and legs were toned, and Greg could see that even through the khakis she had chosen to wear today.

He was staring at the part of her body that filled those khakis to perfection when she turned around. She had obviously not realized he was there because she jumped so badly she almost dropped the glass. As it was, she splashed lemonade all over her hand.

"Greg!" she exclaimed as she reached for a towel. "You scared the crap out of me!"

If any other woman had caught him staring at her butt, he would have stammered out an apology and quickly removed himself from her presence, but with Lynn he only grinned.

"Just admiring the view," he quipped.

She glared at him, but he could see her lips twitch with the effort of not returning his grin. He chuckled and walked over to her, taking her by the waist and laying a quick kiss on her lips.

"I hope you don't mind me invading your kitchen," she said.

"Of course not. I told you to make yourself at home." He pulled back a little and looked at her firmly. "Just not when I'm cooking. I can't abide anyone in my kitchen when I'm working."

"Yeah, I got that message. Why is that?"

"I honestly don't know. I once chased Ed out of here because he came in to get a drink while I was making dinner. He thought I had gone insane."

Lynn laughed and said, "Well, I promise I'll stay out. Especially if all of your kitchen excursions end with a meal as delicious as lunch was."

"Speaking of kitchens and meals, are you hungry?" He looked at the clock on the microwave and saw that it was almost six o'clock. They had been asleep for over five hours. No wonder he was so stiff.

"No," she responded, "not really."

"How about a snack, then? I can throw something together."

"That would be fine; something light, though." She gave him a small smile. "Do I have to leave?"

It felt good to joke with her, and he chuckled. "No, that rule only applies to actual cooking. I'll just grab a few things."

"Good. Let me know if I can help."

"Actually, you can. I'd like a Coke, if you don't mind. And while you're in the fridge, can you grab the grapes?"

"Your wish is my command," she teased and turned to do as he asked. By the time she stood up, Greg had already gotten a plate out and was cutting up a cheese he had gotten out of his pantry into small wedges. She put the bowl of grapes on the counter along with his soda and watched him, leaning her elbows on the counter. "Isn't cheese supposed to be refrigerated?"

"Not this kind. This is Appenzeller; it comes from Switzerland, and it is best served at room temperature." He arranged the wedges on the plate in a circle and added grapes to the center. Lynn put the remaining grapes back in the fridge, and Greg returned the cheese to the pantry. He then picked up the plate and a few napkins from a holder on the counter, and Lynn grabbed his soda and her glass.

The two returned to the living room and set everything on the coffee table. As they sat on the couch, Greg asked, "Do you want to watch some TV?"

"Sure," Lynn replied. "What do you like?"

"Comedy is my favorite. Having been a police officer for so long, my life has enough real drama that I don't really like watching it on television. Even at the college, while I'm not directly involved in the drama anymore, I am teaching about it all the time. What about you?"

"I'm not picky; you choose."

"All right." Greg picked up the remote and turned the TV on. The channel was already set to The Comedy Network, so he set the remote back on the table and sat back against the couch. Currently on was Comedy Now!, a show that featured various stand-up comedians.

Lynn and Greg spent the next hour laughing at the jokes and antics of the performers. They picked at the cheese and grapes and sat cuddled together on the couch. When the show was finished, Lynn turned to Greg.

"Greg?"

"Yes?"

"Where did you learn your way around a kitchen so well?" she asked lightly.

Lynn couldn't know how that simple question affected Greg. It seemed to be perfectly innocent, but it wasn't. The answer was tied up in the darkest days of the last eighteen months.

"Ah," he said, growing serious, "that would be therapy."

"Really?" she asked, not expecting that answer at all.

He nodded, took a deep breath, and turned off the television, sitting up on the edge of the couch. He knew he would have to tell Lynn about this part of his life sometime, but he didn't think it would be this soon. As much as he dreaded talking about it, however, he felt as if he could tell her anything, at any time, and she would understand. He desperately hoped so, anyway. If she didn't, he knew that he would lose her, and he also knew that he would not survive if that happened. He stared into her eyes as he continued. "After I was injured, I was very depressed. I hated myself and everything about my life. I did my best to push everyone I loved and who loved me out of my life. I wanted to be alone, but most of my friends and family pushed right back and refused to let me go." He stopped and tried to decide whether or not to tell Lynn about Marina. He could shorten the story, skip right to the therapy. If he told her the truth, would she be so disgusted with him that she would leave? Or, even worse, would she be scared of him? He didn't have to think long, though. He knew Lynn deserved the entire truth, no matter the consequences.

"I had been dating a woman for a while when I got shot. We were very serious, to the point that I was planning on asking her to marry me. We lived together here, and I loved her very much, but that was not enough to save us or me. I hated myself and my situation more than I loved her. After about a year of me treating her absolutely horribly, she was still determined to make it work, but…"

Greg stopped and closed his eyes. He sat perfectly still until he felt Lynn's hands cover his own, which were clasped tightly on his knees.

"Greg," she said softly, "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"Yes, I do," he murmured. "I don't want to, but I have to tell you."

When he opened his eyes, and Lynn saw the anguish in them, she reached one hand up and cupped his cheek. She nodded her head, and Greg took a deep breath before continuing. He remained focused on her eyes, drawing strength from the concern and compassion he saw there.

"I told you last week that I am a recovering alcoholic, but what I didn't tell you was that one night, about six months ago, I decided to knowingly and gladly relapse. I was in so much pain and despair, I just wanted to drink myself into oblivion and forget, even if it was just for one night. The logical part of my brain knew that it was a mistake and that it would end up being way more than one night, but the other, irrational part couldn't have cared less. That part won."

He stopped and took another deep breath, and searched Lynn's face for any sign of disgust or pity. Disgust he could handle, but he could not stand pity. He saw neither of them, however, and that gave him the courage he needed to tell Lynn the rest – the part he was afraid would drive her away from him forever.

"That night I came home with a bottle of whiskey, and Marina called me on it. She knew my past and what even one sip could do to me. What she didn't realize was how desperate I was or how far I would go to get my way on this. To be perfectly honest, I didn't, either."

Greg pulled his hands from hers and stood up. He couldn't face Lynn with his next confession, so he walked over to the sliding glass door and looked out, hands clasped behind his back. He spoke softly, but Lynn could still hear him.

"She tried to take the bottle from me, and it slipped and broke on the floor. Something snapped inside of me, and I lost it. In my mind, the breaking of that bottle symbolized everything that had been taken from me, and Marina was to blame. Ever since the bombings, I felt like all my choices had been ripped away from me. I didn't choose to retire from the SRU; I was forced to. I didn't choose to be in constant pain; Marcus Faber chose that for me. I didn't choose to have my life completely turned upside down; he chose that, too. When the bottle broke, Marina was suddenly the cause of everything that had happened to me. I completely lost control." He stopped again and closed his eyes. "I attacked her. She left me that day for good."

He couldn't go on. He was terrified that he had just driven Lynn away just as he had Marina, and the thought caused him so much pain that he just placed his hands on the door and pressed his head against the glass, feeling the coolness contrast with the heat of his skin. He stood there silently, dreading the words he so desperately did not want to hear – the words that would tell him that he had lost Lynn, too.

Instead, he heard her softly say, "Did you hurt her? Physically, I mean."

He cringed and muttered, "Does it matter?"

There was silence for a moment, and then Lynn responded, "Yes, it does to me."

"Fine," he breathed, still not looking at her. "Yes, I hurt her. Not badly, but I hurt her, nonetheless."

Tears began to leak from the corners of his eyes, and he just stood there, waiting for the sounds of fear or anger or revulsion, or the sound of the door slamming as she left him, never to return. He deserved it all for what he had done to Marina, and so he was shocked to his core when the only sound he heard was Lynn's footsteps approaching him from behind. He felt her arms encircle his body, her hands coming to rest on his chest. When she laid her head on his back, he couldn't breathe. She didn't say anything but just held him. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore.

He reached down and pulled her arms from him. He slowly turned around and pushed Lynn to arm's length. He swallowed to moisten his suddenly dry throat and whispered, "Lynn, what are you doing?"

She looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Why are you hugging me? Aren't you revolted by what I just told you? Aren't you disgusted? Don't you understand? I attacked her, Lynn. She had done nothing to me and I grabbed her by the throat! I wanted to hurt her!"

Lynn pulled her arms out of his hands and cupped his face, looking at him intently. "I know, Greg. I understand. I know what a tragedy like this can do to a person. You directed your anger and pain outward toward other people." She paused briefly. "I directed mine inward at myself. For days I could barely get out of bed, and for weeks I didn't leave the house. I didn't consciously try to push anyone away, but I certainly didn't do anything to prevent them from leaving, either. Like you, my family was determined to help. My sons forced me to take care of myself, and eventually, the pain grew less, and I was able to see that it was not right to basically end my life because John had died. It took a long time, though, just as it did for you."

She stopped and let her hands gently caress Greg's face. "I know the man you have become, Greg Parker, and I am not disgusted by him, nor am I scared of him. I have seen nothing of the hate or anger you had back then; all I see is a man who is loved by his friends and family and respected by his peers. If you were the same man after all this time, I would have seen it in either your actions, or, even if you were a great actor and managed to hide it, in the actions and attitudes of those around you."

Greg didn't know what to say. Deep down, he had expected Lynn to run from him in terror or at least scream at him about what a horrible person he was. He truly did not think that she would be able to handle his story, and the fact that she not only accepted it, but said that she understood it, caused him to slowly slide down the door to the floor. Lynn went with him, still cupping his face. Greg ended up with his legs stretched out in front of him. Lynn was kneeling between them, her knees against his thighs. He opened his mouth, but no words came out, he was so stunned.

Lynn simply smiled sadly at him and leaned forward until her lips met his. He didn't move as she gently kissed him, his eyes slowly sliding shut. As she began kissing him more deeply, however, he couldn't help himself. He grabbed Lynn's waist and pulled her forward until she was sitting on his lap. He kept one hand on her waist and moved the other to the back of her head. He took over the kiss, pouring all of his fear and pain and relief into it, and Lynn returned it just as passionately.

Greg groaned and pulled her to him, resting his head between her breasts. He held her tightly and whispered, "God, Lynn, what you do to me. What did I do to deserve you?"

She rested her head on top of his and held him just as tightly. Her voice was soft as she responded, "You are a good man, Greg. A wonderful man. You deserve to be happy."

Greg shook his head but said no more. He turned his head and once again kissed her thoroughly. He traced her lips with his tongue and trailed open mouth kisses down her jawline to her neck. He nibbled and sucked the tender skin while his hands caressed her arms and back. Her hands traveled the length of his upper body as well, often gripping the back of his head and pulling it tightly to her. Their explorations continued until Greg felt an ache begin in his leg.

He groaned, but it wasn't because of what she was doing to him. He didn't want to, but he knew he had to move or his left leg would stiffen up on him completely. He reluctantly pushed Lynn away from him gently and said, "Lynn, I have to get up."

"Are you okay?" she asked with true concern in her voice when she saw him try to hide a grimace.

He smiled to reassure her, though. "I'm fine, but I won't be if I stay like this."

"Oh, Greg, I am so sorry…" she began, but he swiftly brought a finger to her lips to quiet her.

"No," he said, "don't ever be sorry for this. I would stay with you like this forever, but my leg just can't take it."

She stood immediately and put her hand out to help him up. He took it gratefully and staggered to his feet. He flexed his leg slowly, feeling a little bit of stiffness, but it wasn't too bad. He felt his heart constrict at the look of anxiety on Lynn's face, and he hugged her.

"Don't worry, Lynn, I'm fine, really," he whispered. "Just a little stiff."

The anxiety was immediately replaced by a smirk, and she actually let out a snort!

"What's so…" he began, but then he realized what he had said. "Ah, never mind."

He took her hand and led her back to the couch. Sitting down, he pulled her down beside him. As he lay back, his head on the arm of the couch, she settled against him, her head on his chest. They lay there, content to be in each other's arms, hands moving on each other gently, soothingly.

"Stay with me tonight," he said abruptly.

"What?" she said, obviously not expecting that.

"I'm serious," he continued, "I want you to stay."

"Greg," she said and sat up, "I don't know what to say."

He didn't let her go far and took her hands in his. "Say yes, Lynn. I don't want you to go. Please? I promise that nothing will happen if you don't want it to."

She watched him for a moment and then slowly said, "But I don't have anything with me. No clothes, no toothbrush, nothing."

He smiled when he realized that was not a "no," and he said, "That's okay. I have an extra toothbrush, still in the package, and I've got some sweats and a T-shirt you can wear to sleep in."

Lynn didn't say anything for a moment, but then a smile crept across her face. "All right. After all, it's getting late, and I don't want to make you drive me all the way back to my hotel."

Greg's smile turned into a grin, and he pulled her close.

"You know," he said, "I just realized we never ate dinner."

Lynn looked surprised. "You're right," she replied, "but to tell the truth, I am not at all hungry.

"Neither am I."

They lay there until they began to get cold, and then Greg pushed her gently off of him, stood up, and pulled her to her feet.

"I'll get you those clothes now."

Lynn watched as he walked to his bedroom. Even though he now had what amounted to a desk job, she could tell he still cared about his body. She could see his back muscles ripple through his shirt as he moved, and, although Lynn wasn't much of a "butt girl," she had to admit that his backside was very enticing. His black jeans fit him perfectly in all the right places. When he came back, she couldn't stop her eyes from exploring him from head to toe as he handed her the clothes in his hand. She thought that she had never seen a more desirable man.

She took the clothes from him and stood up. Leaning toward him, she placed a quick kiss on his lips and asked, "So, where is the toothbrush?"

"Under the sink," he replied and then watched as she left the living room. He stood there until he heard the bathroom door shut, and then he sank down to sit on the edge of the couch.

Greg was not a religious man, but he believed in God, and he sent out a quick prayer of thanks to Him. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Lynn knew what he had done to Marina, and she still chose to stay with him, and not only stay in the general term, but to stay the night with him. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He had never felt this content, this complete, this real just by having a woman near him. He knew it was a cliché, but he truly felt that he could now die happy.

He got up and went to the kitchen where he pulled two sodas out of the fridge and took them back to the living room. He was flipping through the channels when Lynn came into the room carrying her clothes in one hand. She put them on the endtable beside the couch and looked at him.

She was swallowed up by his clothing, but Greg thought he had never seen anything sexier in his life. The knowledge that the woman he loved was wearing his clothing caused his head to spin.

"You know, I realized something while I was changing."

He was startled when she spoke; his attention had been so fixed on her body, shapeless as it was in the baggy clothes.

"Huh? Oh, what did you realize?"

"You never finished your story."

"What are you talking about?"

She sat down next to him on the couch and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I asked you how you became such a good cook. You never got to that part."

Greg put his arm around her. "You're right, I didn't. Well, after Marina left me, Eddie got me some help. One of the things my therapist recommended was to find something to fill my time. I had always wanted to learn how to cook, and I mean really cook. I had been divorced for over ten years, but my meals were still your basic bachelor fare. So, I signed up for some cooking classes at a local community college, and I was instantly hooked. I still do a lot of research on my own, mostly online, and, after the comedy channel, the food networks are my next favorite things to watch."

Lynn smiled and said, "That's great, Greg. I'm glad you found something you like to do."

They settled into each other and sat there, watching TV until Lynn spoke.

"Greg?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

The simple words surprised Greg. "For what?"

Lynn heaved a contented sigh. "Everything."

Greg could tell from her voice that she was tired, so he clicked off the television and stood up, holding out his hand to her. "Come on," he said quietly, "let's go to bed."

She frowned slightly. "Which bed?"

He froze, chagrined that he had assumed they would share a bed tonight without even asking her. "I..." he stopped, unsure how to proceed. He took a deep breath, looked at her, his heart in his eyes, and decided to just speak his thoughts. "I want you in my bed, Lynn, but I understand if you feel uncomfortable with that, so you choose. Dean's bed is available to you, if you want to sleep there."

Lynn's frown remained, and Greg could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. "I guess I'll take Dean's room, then." She looked him in the eye and said, almost apologetically, "I want to be with you, but I'm not ready for anything to happen yet, Greg."

Knowing exactly what she was trying to say, Greg smiled softly. "While I can't say that I'm not ready, either, I am, as you put it earlier, a gentleman. How about we come to an agreement? If you sleep with me tonight, nothing will happen. Clothes will stay on, and these hands," he wiggled his fingers, "will stay in only respectable places."

She looked at him intently, as if to ascertain his sincerity. "Do you promise?"

"Lynn, I promise. I would never do anything to hurt you or compromise you in any way."

A smile graced her beautiful face, and Greg felt his heart melt. "Then I agree."

She took his hand and stood, and Greg kissed her softly before leading her back to his bedroom.

Lynn climbed under the covers and lay down. Greg went to his dresser and took out another T-shirt and pair of sweats. Lynn frowned slightly when she saw him turn off the light and move toward the door.

"Where are you going?" she said peevishly.

Greg smiled at her tone. Now she sounded like him. "I'm just going to brush my teeth," he said, trying not to sound like a father talking to a pouting child.

Either she was too tired to care or he succeeded because she sighed again and snuggled deeper into the covers. "Okay, then," she said quietly, and her eyes closed.

Greg didn't leave immediately; instead he leaned against the door frame, crossed his arms, and watched as Lynn's breathing slowed until he knew she was asleep. His heart constricted as he walked to the bathroom to get ready for bed. He loved her. He knew it with every fiber of his being.

When he got back to the bedroom, he stood by the bed watching her sleep for a moment before climbing in beside her. He gently gathered her in his arms so as not to wake her and settled in. She grumbled slightly, but she moved closer to him, her head on his chest, and her arm encircling his waist. A deep sense of peace flowed through him as he drifted off to sleep, the woman he loved in his arms.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

The next morning, Greg woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. The clock said that it was a little past seven thirty. He looked over to the other side of the bed and could still see the indentations on the pillow where Lynn had slept last night. He lay quietly as he thought about the events of the past few days. If anyone had asked him last month if he would ever meet someone who made him feel this way, he would have told them absolutely not. After Marina, he was convinced he would never fall in love again. He had told Lynn the truth – he had loved Marina – but the love he felt for Lynn transcended anything he had ever known before. He had heard and read about finding your soulmate, but he had always dismissed the idea as ridiculous. Now, however, he was definitely starting to believe. He smiled broadly and climbed out of bed.

Lynn was standing at the stove with her back to him. She was still dressed in his clothes, but her hair was damp. He was surprised; he must have been sleeping very soundly not to have heard her leave the bed, much less take a shower. He couldn't remember the last time he had done that. Even when he didn't have nightmares, he usually woke up a few times a night, but he had slept through the night with Lynn at his side.

He smiled and came up behind her. The training he had in stealth paid off, and, even with his bum leg, she jumped and caught her breath when he gently moved her hair off of her shoulder. He chuckled and could tell she was about to say something, but when he nuzzled her neck and put his hands around her waist, she relaxed back into him and put her head on his shoulder.

"Greg?"

"Mm hmm?"

"The bacon's going to burn."

She said it so matter-of-factly that Greg could not help bursting out into laughter. He released Lynn with a quick kiss to her temple and moved away. "Well, we don't want that to happen, do we?"

He was still laughing as he got dishes out to set the table. When he got into the dining room, he saw that butter and syrup were already there. He must have been too preoccupied earlier to notice them.

Lynn drained the grease from the bacon and put the strips on a plate. Then she pulled another plate full of pancakes from the oven where they had been warming. After turning off the oven, she brought both plates to the table. Greg tried to follow her into the kitchen again, but she put her hands on his shoulders.

"No," she said firmly, "today I get to serve you." She left him standing there and returned to the kitchen.

Greg sat down at the table and patiently waited, but the smile on his face was evidence that he still found the situation humorous.

Lynn's voice came from the kitchen. "What do you want to drink?"

"Just coffee, thanks. Black." He watched as she came back to the table with a mug in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. "Thank you," he said as she set his coffee in front of him and sat down.

"You are more than welcome," she responded. "I figured I would return the favor of lunch, even though I used your food." She smiled at him as she put bacon and pancakes on his plate.

Greg nodded his thanks and doctored his pancakes. Then he took a bite, and his eyes went wide.

"Wow! These are amazing!" He took another bite and asked, "What did you put in them?"

Lynn smiled enigmatically. "That would be my secret ingredient, and I was very happy to see that you had it in your cabinet."

Greg eyed her carefully. He wasn't sure if she was serious or not. "So, does that mean you won't tell me?"

"Nope."

Greg watched her for a moment longer before he realized she was not going to say anything else, so he just shrugged and proceeded to enjoy the best pancakes he had ever tasted.

"Greg?"

"Yes?"

"I've been meaning to ask you – I thought Dean stayed here when he wasn't at the college. Since you have a break, doesn't that mean he does, too?"

Greg nodded his head. "He does. He hadn't seen his mom for a while, so he decided to spend this break down in Texas with her. He left right after lunch on Monday. He'll be back the day before classes start again."

"Oh," she said, sounding disappointed. "I was hoping to spend some time with him, too. You know, get to know him."

"It's all right," Greg said, "there will be plenty of time for that later. I told him about us before he left, so he wants to get to know you, too."

"What was his reaction?"

"Nothing, really. You have to remember that it's different for him than it is for your kids. His mom and I have been apart since he was seven, and since he's been here with me, I've dated a few women. He's used to me having someone in my life; your kids aren't."

She simply nodded, and they focused on finishing breakfast. When their plates were empty, Greg looked at Lynn and decided that he had to know exactly how long she was going to stay, both in Canada and in his apartment.

"Lynn," he asked, "have you thought about when you are going to leave?"

She looked up from her plate and nodded. "Actually, I have. I can only stay about one more week. I have to get back before school starts. I'll be leaving next Saturday." She reached across the table and took Greg's hand when he groaned and closed his eyes. "Greg? What's wrong?"

Nine days. That was all they had to be together. It wasn't like she was just going back to work or visiting her mother for a while. She would be thirteen hundred miles away, and he wouldn't see her for weeks, or even months, at a time. Even with Skype and email and telephones, he knew that each day without her would be torture.

He squeezed the hand he was holding and looked at her with a small, sad smile and said, "I just don't want you to go."

She looked at him seriously and said, "I don't want to go, either, Greg, but we both know I have to."

He nodded reluctantly. "I know, but I don't have to like it. I want to spend as much time as possible with you until you go." He paused before continuing. "I want you to spend that time here with me."

Lynn pulled her hand from his, sat back in her chair, and studied him. "What are you saying?"

Greg leaned forward, putting his arms on the table. "I want you to stay here instead of at the hotel."

Lynn didn't answer. She sat silently, and Greg could see her mind working. He waited patiently, knowing that she had to consider his invitation carefully.

After a few minutes, he was devastated to see her shake her head. "No, Greg, I'm not ready for that."

His heart dropped, but he simply nodded his head and forced a smile. "All right, Lynn, I understand," and he did, but her answer was still like a physical blow to his chest.

They finished breakfast in an uncomfortable silence, and later, while they were in the kitchen cleaning up, Lynn suddenly turned to him.

"Greg, are you okay?"

The concern in her eyes and voice cut Greg to the quick. He had unfairly put her on the spot with his request, and she was worried about him. He quickly wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Her arms went around him, and he held his breath for a moment before answering. "Do you want the truth?"

She pulled out of the embrace to look up into his face. "Of course I do."

He traced her jawbone with his thumb before cupping her face in his hand. "All right, then, no, I'm not okay. I mean it when I say that I understand that you aren't ready, I really do, but I want you to stay with me. I want to spend every minute of every day of the next week with you." He leaned down and placed a tender, lingering kiss on her lips. "I'm not okay, but I will be." He took a deep breath and pulled her to him. He closed his eyes as he breathed in the scent of his shampoo mingled with her own unique scent, and he vowed to himself that if all he had was nine days with her, he would do everything possible to make those nine days perfect.

Greg didn't know how long they stayed that way, just holding each other, but eventually, Lynn moved back. She draped her arms around his neck, and she looked him in the eye for a long while. Then she drew his head down and kissed him.

"Thank you for understanding, Greg."

He sighed deeply and smiled. Placing a quick kiss on her lips, he replied, "You are welcome."

They moved away from each other to finish their clean-up of the kitchen. When they finished, Lynn turned to Greg.

"I need to call my kids and tell them when I am getting back."

"Of course. Why don't you go into Dean's room to talk?"

Lynn nodded her appreciation, grabbed her purse, went into Dean's room and closed the door.

Greg was watching TV when she came out about an hour later, and the look on her face told him that the conversations did not go well.

"Lynn?" he said with concern when she didn't move from the bedroom doorway.

She looked at him and slowly moved to the couch to sit beside him. When she didn't speak, he said, "Hey, is everything all right?"

"No, not really. I called each of my kids and told them I will be coming home next Saturday. William and Rose didn't ask any questions, but May and James did, so I told them about us."

"What did you say?"

"I said that I really liked you, and that I would be spending most of my time left in Toronto with you."

_She likes me_, he thought bitterly, _not loves_. He shouldn't be so disappointed; after all, they had known each other less than a week. Just because it was love at first sight for him didn't mean it was for her, too. He had to be patient.

"So, were they okay with that?" he asked softly.

"Not exactly," she answered with a short, harsh laugh, "but they'll get used to the idea." She grabbed Greg and kissed him passionately, as if branding him as hers. When she broke off the kiss, she looked up at him and smiled. "They'll have to get used to it."

The kiss, combined with the look she gave him, gave Greg hope that what they had together might deepen into something more. "Yes, they will," he whispered, and he returned his lips to hers sensually.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

Two days after Greg asked Lynn to stay, he and his friends were back at O'Malley's for their weekly pow-wow. Greg had wanted to blow it off, but Lynn insisted that he go. She didn't want to be the reason that he missed their get-together for the first time since they started the tradition over a year ago. None of them had missed it, as a matter of fact, but this Friday was one of the few times Greg was not at the restaurant before his friends. Usually, he had so little to do that he was eager to get there and so was the first to arrive, but this evening, he had wanted to spend as much time with Lynn as possible, so by the time he got to their regular table, the other four men were already halfway through their beers before Greg arrived.

"Hey, buddy," Ed called out when Greg walked up to the table and sat down, "what took you so long? We were beginning to wonder if you were coming."

Greg smiled mysteriously as he signaled to Tom for his Coke. He replied simply, "I was busy."

His friends saw this teasing response as a challenge. Spike spoke up first. "Busy, huh, Boss? Anyone we know?"

The smirk on Spike's face told Greg that he already knew the answer, as he was sure the others did, too, but he decided he could have some fun with this.

"Yeah, I think you met her before," he answered innocently, "but I'm not sure if you would remember her."

Sam and Wordy exchanged amused looks, and then Sam chimed in. "Well, perhaps if you described her, it might jog our memories."

"Better yet," Wordy said quickly before Greg could respond, "why don't we try to guess?"

"Great idea! Twenty questions!" Spike said. "Me first." He took a moment as if he was thinking hard and then said, "Does she have blonde hair?"

Greg smiled. He was so grateful that he had friends with whom he could joke around like this. "Yes, she does."

"Is it curly blonde hair?" Ed was warming up to this.

"Yes, it is."

"Hmmm," Sam said, a thoughtful look on his face, "is it possible she is about five and a half feet tall?"

"Yeah, I'd say that's about right."

"My turn," said Wordy. "Let's see, I'm going to guess that she's not from here. The States, perhaps?"

Greg laughed softly. "Man, you guys are good! Is there anything you don't know?"

"Yes," Ed said, "we don't know exactly what you two have been doing for the last five days. You haven't called any of us even once; I think that's a record."

Ed had said this with humor in his voice, but it made Greg stop laughing. Ed was right. Since the night of the bombings, there was rarely a day that went by that he didn't call up one or more of his friends, especially after Marina left him. He had been so lonely and depressed that he had desperately needed someone to talk to, and he never once thought how his constant phone calls and texts may have affected them or their families. Ed's comment made him realize that he may have intruded on his friends' lives much more than he was aware of, but it also made him extremely thankful to have friends with whom he could be that needy and never hear one word of complaint or criticism.

"You're right, Eddie. I never thought about how much I have relied on you guys the past year and a half." He looked around the table at the four men with whom he had been through so much, and he felt his heart swell with love for them. "I want to say thank you to all of you for everything you've done for me. Without you - especially you, Eddie - I don't think I would have made it."

All humor was gone as the four men looked at their friend, their mentor, their Boss, the man who they all respected more than they could ever express. No one spoke, but they all smiled or nodded their acceptance of his appreciation, while Ed, who was sitting next to Greg, slapped him on the back.

"You know we've always had your back, Greg, and we always will," he said seriously, and the others nodded their agreement.

The table was silent for a moment, and then Sam cleared his throat. "So, anyway, do we get the dirty details about you and Mrs. Mitchell?" he said lightly, trying to break the somber mood that had fallen on them. It worked, and the men all chuckled.

Greg smiled as he looked down at his drink as if he were thinking hard. "Let's see," he began, "we've been to the zoo, the museum, had a few picnics, and even went to the movies once." The smile grew into a grin when he looked up and saw the expectant looks on the other men's faces.

When he said no more, Ed indicated with his hand that he wanted more. "And?"

"And what?" Greg said, his eyes going innocently wide.

Ed huffed and rolled his eyes, while the other three just sat, waiting impatiently. "And, anything else happen?"

"Edward Tucker Lane," Greg said as if offended, "you should know that a gentleman never kisses and tells!"

"Ah ha!" Wordy cried out, his finger in the air like Sherlock Holmes. "So there was kissing!"

Greg laughed. "I didn't say that, Wordy. It's just an expression, you know?"

"Yes it is," Wordy replied, "but it's not one that you would use unless there was something to tell - after kissing, of course."

The other men laughed as well, and Greg said, "Well, that may be true, but I can tell you right now that you are not hearing anything about it from me."

The laughter continued for a while, and then the conversation drifted off into other topics as the men realized that, despite the laughter, Greg was very serious and that they were getting no more information from him.

After a few hours, Sam said, "Well, I'd better get home before Jules begins to wonder what happened to me. It was great being with you again. 'Til next week?"

"Next week," they all agreed, and with that, they all said goodbye, shook hands, and hugged.

Ed and Greg walked out together, and, before they separated, Ed stopped and took a long look at Greg.

"What is it, Eddie?"

Ed was silent for a moment before stating, "You're happy with her, Greg. I can see it in your eyes when you talk about her."

It wasn't a question, but Greg nodded and answered nonetheless. "I am, Eddie. Happier than I can remember being in a very, very long time."

Ed placed his hand on Greg's shoulder. He spoke quietly, "I'm glad, Greg. You deserve it after everything you've been through. You deserve her."

Greg returned the gesture. "Thanks, Eddie, that means a lot."

The two best friends looked affectionately at each other before walking away to their separate cars, Greg thinking once again how lucky he was to have his friends in his life. And now, in addition to friendship, he was finding love once again, as well.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

Greg and Lynn spent almost every minute of the next week together. They spent their time learning everything they could about each other while having picnics in the park and going to museums and other tourist locations. They also spent a lot of time at Greg's apartment, watching TV, playing cards, and enjoying each other's company. Greg was spoiling Lynn with his cooking, but she definitely was not complaining. Besides, he thoroughly enjoyed when she cooked for him as well. It was nice to not have to fend for himself all the time. But every night ended the same way: with Greg outside Lynn's door, forcing himself to walk away even though it felt like his heart was dying bit by bit with every step he took.

Friday came around again all too soon, and with it the realization that this was to be their last day together. It was also the day of the team's monthly family barbecue. It had become a tradition that they had this time together on the beach overlooking Lake Ontario.

Greg and Lynn were the last ones to arrive. As they walked hand in hand up to the others, Lynn carrying a bowl of coleslaw they had made, they could smell the steaks and hamburgers grilling, and they heard the laughter that came from both the adults and children. The older girls had their shoes and socks off and were wading in the shallows with Clark while Izzy and Sadie were seated on a blanket near their parents, playing with a beach ball.

"Greg!" Ed called out as soon as he saw them.

Greg waved and smiled, and instantly all of his friends had surrounded them, each welcoming him with a smile and a hug, handshake, or slap on the back. They greeted Lynn just as enthusiastically, and the women soon managed to separate her from Greg, directing her off to the side while the men encircled Greg.

Lynn looked back over her shoulder and smiled apologetically when she saw the dejection on Greg's face. His friends must have seen it, too, because Spike spoke up, "Don't worry, Boss, they won't take her too far away." The men all laughed when Greg turned a look on Spike that said he wasn't amused.

Greg desperately wanted to go after her, but his friends were being very persistent about getting his attention, and he soon gave up watching Lynn and focused on them.

Ed slipped his arm around Greg's shoulder as he handed him a cold Coke before leading him to the grill. This barbecue was taking the place of the men's Friday night at O'Malley's, and the questions began immediately. "So, anything you want to tell us? What's she like? What have you two been doing that we haven't heard from you in a week?"

Greg had to smile at the enthusiasm of his friends, and he began telling them about Lynn. He talked about how much time they had spent together and where he had taken her. He spoke about their mutual love for cooking and how grateful he was to have someone to cook for, as well as someone who would cook for him. He told his team about almost everything that had been happening to him the last two weeks, but he made not one mention about his true feelings for Lynn. He mentioned that he liked her, but he wouldn't confess his love to his friends until he confessed it to Lynn herself.

The conversation eventually continued onto other topics, and soon Sam announced that the meat was done. Ed whistled to Clark, who gathered up the girls and moved toward the tables. There was already a variety of side dishes in the centers of the tables, and it wasn't long before everyone was seated on the benches with full plates.

As much as they were apart while the food was cooking, families sat together at the tables, so Greg and Lynn were next to each other again, and Greg took the opportunity to lay his hand on her thigh. He was rewarded with a smile and a quick kiss. Apparently, the women had gotten all they were going to out of Lynn, just as Greg was not about to say anything more to the guys, so there were no more questions regarding their relationship.

The day progressed quickly until darkness began to fall, and it was time for everyone to go home. Hugs and handshakes were given all around, coolers and blankets gathered up, and children corralled. Greg and Lynn stood watching their friends leave, enjoying the cool evening breeze and the sounds of impeding night, his arm around her shoulder and hers around his waist.

"Let's not go back just yet," Lynn said softly, laying her head on Greg's shoulder.

"All right, what do you want to do?"

Lynn sighed serenely and tightened her hold on him. "Just walk," she said, "and appreciate the night."

Greg pulled her closer to him, and they walked down toward the lake. They stopped just short of the water line and began to follow the shore westward toward the setting sun. They didn't speak for a while, and, at one point, they stood still as the sun slowly sank behind the horizon in a blaze of red and orange, the colors reflecting off the water looking like a child's spilled finger paints.

They watched until the brilliant colors faded into grays, and when it was over, Greg heard Lynn release a sigh, but it didn't sound like the type that meant, "That was so beautiful!" It sounded like her heart was breaking.

Greg kissed the top of her head and whispered, "What's wrong?"

Lynn didn't answer, but Greg felt her shoulders begin to shake, and he realized she was crying.

"Lynn?" he said, worry evident in his voice. He took her by the shoulders and turned her to him.

Her eyes were tightly shut, and tears were streaming down her face as she stood with her hands on his hips. Greg tried to gently wipe the tears away, but more kept coming. "Darling, what's the matter?"

Lynn only shook her head, unable to speak. Greg drew her to himself, softly caressing her hair while murmuring comforting words to her. She just clung to his shirt and continued to cry.

"Shh, it's okay. Tell me what's wrong. Lynn? Please talk to me."

It took a while for her to calm down, but when she finally did, she took a deep breath and stood there without releasing her grip on him.

Greg took her face in his hands and gently kissed her forehead.

"Okay now?"

Lynn nodded and tried to smile, but didn't succeed. Her eyes were still sad as she stared into his. She took another deep breath before she said softly, "I just realized how very much I am going to miss you."

Her words felt like a knife through his heart. He knew exactly what she was talking about, but he had deliberately refused to think about it this past week. It was almost time for her to go home, and the thought shattered him. Just a few more hours – one more night – and she would leave him. Since he had met her, he had been happier than he could remember, and, although he knew she had to go eventually, he had tried to ignore that reality, choosing instead to pretend that things could stay this perfect forever.

He pulled her back to his chest and held her tightly. He released his own sigh as he looked up at the stars just beginning to shine in the sky. His eyes closed and he tried to calm his own racing thoughts and emotions before resting his cheek on the top of her head.

"I will miss you, too, Lynn, more than I ever could have imagined. If someone had told me six months ago that I would meet a woman who could make me feel like this in such a short time, I would have laughed at him."

He looked up and saw a bench not far away, an antique-looking light post next to it casting a soft glow in the deepening darkness. They slowly walked over and sat down. Lynn's shoulders were slumped, and she looked as if she were going to cry again. Greg enclosed her in his arms and buried his face in her curls. He inhaled deeply, trying to imprint her unique smell in his mind. Gathering his courage, he took her face in his hands. His eyes captured hers as he gently caressed with his fingers her temples, her cheeks, her lips. The light shone off her hair, burnishing it to a bronze sheen. He swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke in a husky whisper, his gaze never leaving hers.

"Lynn, I love you."

He felt, rather than heard her gasp softly, and his heart plummeted. He knew that he was taking a grave risk telling her, but he also knew that he couldn't let her leave without knowing exactly how he felt. The risk was that he had just made a huge mistake and that she would never want to see him again, that he had scared her away, but her actions toward him the past two weeks, the conversations they had had, and the way she obviously enjoyed his company, gave him hope that, even if she did not return his love right now, at least she would be willing to continue their relationship. They sat, silent and still, for a long minute, and Greg began to fear that he had indeed made the greatest mistake of his life. Then Lynn brought her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. It was a soft, gentle kiss, and even when their tongues met, it remained so, but to Greg, it was the most sensual thing he had ever experienced. When it ended, and Lynn pulled away, Greg held his breath and waited for her to say something.

Lynn kept her arms draped over Greg's shoulders and smiled at him. "I love you, too, Greg."

They were the words he never really thought he would hear. He had hoped to hear them, prayed to hear them, even, but deep down, he didn't expect to hear them. The sound of them leaving her lips inflamed him, and he crushed her to him, finding her mouth again. This time, there was no gentleness in the kiss. Greg poured out all of his love, his longing, and his frustration at her leaving into it, permanently branding her as his. His hands roamed freely over her body, and he felt himself respond as she returned his passion just as fervidly.

When they finally separated and became aware of their surroundings again, Greg remembered that they were sitting in a very public place. Even though darkness had fallen, and there were no people around at the moment, that didn't mean that someone wouldn't walk by at any time.

"Lynn," he said softly.

"Yes?" she murmured, her hand slowly tracing its way down his chest toward the waistband of his pants.

He gasped and caught it just before she reached her goal, bringing it to his lips to place a kiss on her palm.

"I don't think this is the place for that, do you?"

She looked around into the darkness surrounding them. When she looked back at him, she had a mischievous glint in her eye. "Why not? There's no one around."

"Ha!" Greg was a little shocked at the wantonness Lynn was displaying, but it excited him, and he smiled at her. "Maybe not right now, but what's to stop someone from walking by? The last thing we need is to have to explain to an officer who is making his rounds through the park what we are doing. I don't think that would look too good on my police record."

She smiled back. "I suppose you're right, but I am warning you now," and she pulled her hand from his grasp, "that if we don't get back to my hotel soon, I may not care about your police record."

Greg hadn't moved so quickly in months. He practically dragged Lynn back to his car, hearing her laughter in his ears all the way. He knew she had mentioned her hotel instead of his apartment because it was much closer to where they were now. As he pulled out of the parking lot, Lynn began slowly tracing small circles on his thigh. He groaned loudly and chanced a glance at her.

"God, Lynn, you're going to make me crash!"

Lynn smiled seductively and continued her motions. "Not you, Greg Parker," she teased, "you never lose control."

Greg groaned again at her innuendo and tried to focus on driving, but Lynn made it very difficult. By the time they got to her hotel room, Greg could only think of one thing, and, the instant they were inside, Greg slammed the door behind him, threw his cane on the floor, and grabbed Lynn. The two of them quickly made their way to the bedroom, and Greg soon discovered that making love to Lynn was everything he had dreamed it would be, and more.

As they rested afterwards, Greg held himself off her with his elbows and slowly traced her temple with his finger, down to her jaw. He studied her face intently, marveling that this beautiful woman was with him in his life.

"I love you, Lynn." Now that he had said it once, he would never tire of saying it to her.

She smiled and pulled him down for a kiss. "And I love you, Greg."

Unwilling to leave, Greg asked, "Lynn, may I stay here with you tonight?"

She kissed him again. "Yes. I was going to ask you to. I don't want to be away from you any sooner than I have to be."

Greg smiled sadly, thrilled that she was letting him stay, but devastated that it was only for one more night. He didn't voice his sorrow, though, and only shifted so that they could crawl under the covers.

"Me either, my love," he whispered as he gathered her in his arms.

He stayed awake long after she fell asleep, listening to her breathe, not wanting to miss one single moment that they had left. Sleep eventually claimed him, however, and he knew nothing more until morning.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

The morning came all too soon, and Greg woke to the sound of the alarm clock blaring in his ear. He reached over without opening his eyes and slapped the snooze button hard enough to make the clock bounce and fall off the nightstand. The floor was carpeted, but he still heard something crack, and he grimaced. He guessed that the alarm would not be going off again, but they had given themselves more than enough time to get ready, and he knew he would not fall asleep again.

"Oops!" he heard Lynn say as she moved so that her head was on his chest. "You may have to pay for that."

"Small price to pay for peace and quiet," he returned, holding her tightly, eyes still closed. He kissed the top of her head and began to trace her back with one hand very slowly. He covered every inch, every millimeter, memorizing the shape, the texture, the feel of her skin. He moved to her arms and sides, and when he came to the end of his reach, he gently laid Lynn back on the bed and continued his tactile study of her body without ever opening his eyes. He heard Lynn gasp every time he caressed a sensitive spot, but she seemed to know what he was doing, what he needed, and she lay still. He progressed over her chest, pausing to feel her heartbeat and her breathing. Next he proceeded down her stomach to her hips, down the outside of her legs to her feet. Once there, he began to travel back up her body. He continued upward until he had cupped her head in his hands, examining her features in minute detail with his fingertips. He finished with his palms on her jawline and his thumbs tracing her lips.

He opened his eyes.

He saw the woman he loved with all his heart lying beneath him, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted, a look of utter bliss on her face. His heart clenched with the thought that this would be the last time for a very, very long while that he would be able to look at her like this, and he studied her face with his eyes just as he had done with his hands. She still hadn't moved to touch him, her hands remaining at her sides. This was the way he wanted it right now; he wanted to let her know how much he adored her without any thought to his own desires. He could feel her breath on his thumbs, and he slowly lowered his mouth to hers, shifting his hold in order to draw her head and body to him. While he softly, achingly brushed her lips with his, he molded his body to hers.

He drew his head away from her when he felt a wetness pooling underneath the palm that was cupping her cheek. Lynn's eyes were still closed, but tears were slowly seeping from the corners, rolling silently down her face.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, lovingly kissing the tears away as they fell, "please don't cry. It breaks my heart to see you sad."

She didn't move or speak, but she opened her eyes and locked gazes with him. Their brilliant blue was enhanced by the shimmering of the tears that continued to fall. Greg caught his breath at the anguish he saw shining out at him, and he desperately wished he could do something, anything, to make it go away, hurting all the more knowing that he couldn't.

"Darling," he began, but she finally moved and brought one finger to his lips, silencing his words. Her hand slipped to the back of his neck while the other went around to his back. She began to delicately trail her fingertips over his skin, her touch marking him imperceptibly. He closed his eyes as she slowly pulled his head down to her. Her kiss was no more passionate than his had been, and, as their mouths caressed each other, he took her hands in his and raised her arms above her head. The tenderness between them continued, even when they began to make love. There was no urgency, no desperation, no lust in their movements; there was only deep longing and love. They did not speak and only stared into one another's eyes, reading everything that needed to be said there. Lynn had stopped crying, but her eyes were still glistening as they looked at each other.

"God, I adore you," he whispered, his heart in his words.

"I love you, Greg," she sighed in return. They never broke contact with each other's eyes until Lynn brought her mouth to his for another gentle kiss.

When their desires had been satisfied, Greg lowered his body down onto hers as they broke the kiss, and he buried his face in the pillow next to her head. They lay silently until their breathing returned to normal, and then Greg pushed himself off of Lynn to lay on his right side next to her. He gathered her into his arms and held her tightly, hating their situation. He wanted to be with her like this forever, and he didn't know how he was going to handle not being able to touch her every night and feel her touching him. He desperately wanted to go with her to Colorado today, but he knew he couldn't. He had his obligations at the college, and he couldn't just leave them in the lurch.

They lay there, both in their own thoughts, until Greg felt Lynn's fingers gently brush the scar on his chest, just below his armpit. He caught his breath as she traced the round mark tenderly and then trailed her fingertips down his side, over his hip, and down to the matching scar on the front of his thigh. She had seen his scars before, but she had never examined them like this, and just as he had felt the need to memorize every inch of her body, it seemed she needed to do the same. They were the only two physical reminders from the day he got shot. Neither bullet went through his body, so there were no accompanying scars on his back or the back of his leg.

Lynn pulled away from him, her hand still tracing the marring on his thigh, and Greg saw that her brow was furrowed, and her mouth was turned down into a frown. She looked up him, the anger on her face growing with each second.

Greg gently placed his hand over hers, ceasing her motions. "What is it?"

She frowned even more deeply as if trying to think of how to phrase her thoughts. Greg waited patiently until she spoke, her answer surprising him. "I was just thinking about how furious I am at the man who did this to you. I know that Ed killed him, and I am glad for that, but how could anyone be that evil? He killed my husband, and he could have killed you."

Greg nodded as he pulled her hand away from his leg and held it to his chest. "Yes, he could have, but he didn't." He brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed the knuckles. "I learned a long time ago that there are evil people in this world, Lynn, and it is impossible to understand their motivations sometimes. As for Marcus Faber, though, I truly don't think he was evil; I think he was a destroyed, tortured young man who'd had his life, his security, his beliefs, and his innocence ripped from him at far too young an age, and in far too violent a fashion, and he couldn't deal with it. He was only trying to relieve his pain and torment by inflicting even more pain and torment on others. The real criminal was Anson Holt, the man who turned Marcus into what he was. I lay all the blame of what happened to me, to you, to my friends, and to my city squarely on Holt." Greg's own anger came to the surface, and he forced himself to keep his voice steady, but his hands fisted in the sheets. "And Holt's name is inscribed on that monument right along with all of the victims, while one victim, Marcus, will forever be remembered as the evil one. It's not fair!" He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths to calm himself.

After he accomplished that, he opened his eyes and looked at Lynn. "I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to dump all of that on you, especially today."

"No, don't apologize. I asked, and you answered. Besides, I never looked at it that way before. I knew about the experiments Holt conducted, of course; everyone did, but the news didn't go into too much detail. I didn't realize it was Holt who made Faber into the man who killed my husband."

"It wasn't only Holt. There was something already in Marcus that Holt's actions kindled into a raging inferno. After all, he had other students who didn't bomb the city, but every single one of his victims either imploded or exploded, some attempting to kill themselves, some succeeding, some ending up in jail. Out of those who are still alive, none have normal lives now. Marcus was just the most well-known, the one who was most successful in making others pay for his pain."

Lynn leaned over and kissed Greg. "Well," she said sincerely, "I am eternally grateful that he didn't succeed completely."

Greg smiled and said, "Me too, Lynn, me too."

He placed a quick kiss on her forehead before rolling over and picking the clock up from the floor. He looked at it and noticed that it seemed to be working fine in spite of the sound it had made hitting the floor. According to it, they had a little over four hours before Lynn's plane left. He placed the clock back on the nightstand and frowned when Lynn also saw what time it was and said, "Greg, we need to get up. I've got to get ready to go."

The frown remained, but Greg nodded and said simply, "I know." He climbed out of bed and held a hand out to Lynn, helping her stand. He started to move toward his dresser, but she held on to his hand and pulled him toward the bathroom.

"What are you doing, Lynn?"

She turned so that she could take both of his hands in hers, walking backwards. "We are going to shower together. We only have a few more hours left, and I don't want you out of my sight or my reach for a single second of that time."

Greg only grinned as they entered the bathroom. After adjusting the temperature, Lynn stepped into the shower; Greg followed. Just like when they had made love, their shower was free from passion or craving. Instead, it was a time of gentle caresses and tender kisses.

After washing each other, they stepped out and wrapped themselves in fluffy, white towels. Greg had Lynn sit on the bed while he dried her hair with another towel. He knew by now that she didn't blow dry her hair; she said it made the curls frizzy. As they continued to get ready, they talked about mundane things, not wishing to bring up anything emotional again, at least not yet. Greg knew that their parting would be very emotional, but that could wait.

It was about an hour later when they were ready to leave. Greg carried one of Lynn's suitcases as she rolled the other behind her. They made their way down to the front desk where she finished up the checkout paperwork, and then they took the elevator down to the parking garage.

After pulling out into traffic, Greg reached over and intertwined his fingers with Lynn's, resting their hands on the center console.

"Don't you need both hands to drive?" she asked.

"Nope," he replied, grinning. "That's the beauty of an automatic transmission." He glanced at her only to see an answering grin on her face.

The rest of the drive was spent in companionable silence. This silence continued until they came to the airline's check-in counter. Lynn had already completed most of the check-in procedure online, but she needed to check her bags. Usually, passengers had to proceed alone from this point, and goodbyes were said here, but the two of them proceeded to the metal detectors together. Once there, Greg showed his badge and stated simply that he was escorting Mrs. Mitchell to her flight. He knew it was not the most ethical thing to do, using his position as a police officer for such a personal reason, but at this point he didn't care. As Lynn had said, he wanted her within sight and touch until she boarded the plane. The personnel they came in contact with never questioned his statement. In fact, several recognized him and took the opportunity to shake his hand and tell him how honored they were to meet him. He simply thanked them and smiled, inwardly hating the attention.

After another couple of hours waiting in lines and waiting at counters at the U.S. Customs hall, they finally made it to the gate with about an hour to spare. They sat, Lynn resting her head on Greg's shoulder, his arm around her. They could see the plane already pulled up to the gate, and for a few moments, they stared out at it, both lost in their own thoughts. Then Greg rested his cheek on Lynn's head and whispered, "I am going to miss you so much, Lynn. I don't know how I am going to handle you being gone." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to will the tears that were forming to remain behind his lids. He succeeded with all but one, and that one squeezed out of the corner of his eye and traced a slow, sad trail down his face until it landed in Lynn's curls.

She sat up and turned to him, her own eyes swimming in tears that didn't fall. She caressed his cheek, wiping away the trail his tear had made. "I will miss you too, Greg. I love you so much, it hurts when I think of being away from you." She made an attempt at a smile. "But you know it won't be long before we are together again. And when we are, it will be even more wonderful."

Greg smiled sadly at her attempt to find the bright side of their situation, but he knew that she was just as devastated as he was. "It will be far too long, my love. Even one night away from you is too long. I died a little every time I had to leave your hotel door; how am I going to survive weeks without you?"

His words broke the dam that was holding back her tears, and they began to flow down her cheeks. Her voice stuck in her throat when she tried to answer him, and he drew her to his chest, holding her while she cried. "Shh," he crooned, "I know." He continued murmuring comforting words and phrases, and after a while, her tears stopped. He didn't release her, however, until the boarding call came over the loudspeaker.

She looked at him with anguish in her eyes. He was sure that his own eyes reflected the same, but he stood up and pulled her to her feet. He clasped her to himself as if his strength alone could keep her from getting on the plane. As other passengers moved around them, most looking at them with compassion and understanding, Greg could not make his arms release her. They stood there, desperation making them cling to each other, until the final boarding call was announced. Finally, he forced himself to move back until he was only holding her arms. He couldn't speak, so he leaned down and kissed her passionately, once again memorizing her feel, her taste, her smell, her essence.

When they broke the kiss, Lynn moved slowly toward the plane, looking back at Greg and holding his hand until the distance was too great, and their hands slipped apart. She regretfully turned to the agent and handed over her ticket. Greg remained where he was and watched as she walked slowly down the gangway. Just before turning the corner to enter the plane, she turned back, smiled sadly, and blew him a kiss before mouthing the words, "I love you."

He returned the kiss and the words, and then she disappeared from his sight. He immediately walked to the window and stared out at the plane. He fervently wished there would be some problem with it that wouldn't threaten the people on the plane, but that would make it unable to fly. Then they could have another couple of hours together. It was not to be, however, and soon the gangway folded up, and the plane backed out of its place by the terminal. As it taxied out of his sight, he placed both hands on the window and rested his forehead on the glass. The tears that had not fallen before were now streaming down his face, and he stood there, unashamedly letting them fall at his feet. He was still standing, still breathing, but his heart was now on its way to another country, and the emptiness that was left in its place kept him from moving for a very long time.


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

Greg didn't remember how he got home. His mind had subconsciously navigated the streets and traffic lights through the city, but it was consciously thinking about how much he already missed Lynn and how he didn't know if he would make it through the next two months.

He and Lynn had sat down the night before and compared their calendars. Not only did they have their respective school schedules to take into consideration, but also the different nations' holidays. Both Lynn's school and the police college started classes in two weeks – the day after Labor Day, to be precise, which was the same day in both countries. After that, the first date that they would both have off, not counting weekends, would be in October. It happened that Columbus Day in the United States fell on the same day as Canada's Thanksgiving Day. They had agreed that since Columbus Day was really nothing more than a day off of school or work for most Americans, Lynn included, she would come back to Canada to spend Thanksgiving with Greg and Dean.

Comparing their holidays, Greg and Lynn had realized that their Thanksgiving holidays were actually very similar, with the main purpose being for people to give thanks for the good things in their lives. The main difference, of course, was that there were no Pilgrims in Canada, but the same basic principle was behind both holidays. Lynn had been the first to mention that she definitely had something to be thankful for this year, and Greg was quick to agree.

At first, Greg had been concerned that the travel would put a financial strain on Lynn, but she had assured him that not only did she make a comfortable income from the school, she also had her husband's life insurance and a "benevolence package" that his company had paid her, which was basically what his pension would have been had he lived to retire. While she was far from rich, she still had enough money to make the occasional trip. Greg had his income from the college, which was substantially more than he had made at SRU, and so, he also had a decent amount of discretionary income.

He had managed to finally get control of himself at the airport, and to hold himself together on the way home, but as soon as he stepped inside and closed the door, he slid to the ground, back against the wood, and simply sat there, unable to move. He lowered his head into his hands, but no tears came; he seemed to have cried himself out. Eventually, he hauled himself to his feet and forced himself to go to the kitchen and get something to eat. He knew that no matter how badly he felt, he still had to take care of himself.

He made himself a sandwich and looked at the clock on the microwave. Lynn's plane had taken off about two hours ago, and he knew that it was a three and a half hour flight. The good thing was that, because she had gone through customs here in Canada, she would be considered a domestic passenger once she got to Denver. That would save her a lot of time, and she had promised to call him as soon as she landed.

He sat down at the table and slowly ate, not tasting anything, but knowing that his body needed the nutrition. After he finished and had cleaned up, he knew he had to find something to do until Lynn landed, so he decided to call Eddie. Sitting on the couch, he dialed the number.

The phone was answered after the first ring. "Hey, Greg, how are you doing?" Ed's voice clearly disclosed that he was very afraid for his best friend. He was a good profiler and had seen how Greg and Lynn had fallen for each other. He couldn't remember a time when he had seen Greg as happy as he was when he was with Lynn, not even during the best times with Marina, and he was seriously worried that Lynn's leaving might send him spiraling down into another depression.

Greg was grateful for his friend's obvious concern, but his tone was steady when he answered, "I'm all right, Eddie. I miss her terribly already, but I'll be fine."

"Mm hmm," Eddie responded, not sounding at all convinced. "Are you sure about that?"

"Positive," Greg said. "It hurts, buddy; I won't lie to you, it hurts like hell, but you don't have to be worried about me." He knew exactly what Ed was worried about, and he knew he had to put his mind at ease. "I am not going to do anything stupid." He took a deep breath. "It may be two months before she'll be back, but at least I know she's coming back."

"Two months?" There was a pause as Ed did the math in his head. "So she's coming back for Thanksgiving?"

"Yep, it's the same day as her Columbus Day, so we both get it off. She'll fly here Friday night and go back home Monday night. It's only a few days, but I'll take what I can get. We talked about going back and forth on the weekends, but we quickly figured out that we are both too busy while school is on, and neither of us is rich enough." Greg said the last with a small laugh which Ed was very glad to hear.

"Well, maybe one of you will win the lottery, and that last part would be taken care of," Ed chuckled.

Greg's smile was in his voice as he said, "That would be nice, but, that doesn't change how busy we both are. You know what my load is at the college; most of my Saturdays and Sundays are spent working on classroom stuff. Lynn told me that she tries to attend as many of her students' activities outside of school as possible, especially now that Rose is going to college, and a lot of them happen on the weekends. She feels that it helps her get to know the students better, and it lets them know that she really cares about them."

"Wow, that's dedication," Ed said, true respect in his words.

"I know. I told her that I wished more teachers felt that way about their kids, and she said that, while she can't force her teachers to spend their weekends with their students, most of them try to support something that the kids do outside of school, whether that is sports or music or whatever."

"That is truly awesome. Maybe she should start a school up here. We could definitely use more teachers with that mindset," Ed said. "While I know there are plenty of teachers who love their students, I also know there are too many who don't. Maybe it would help with the violence we see in schools if more kids really thought their teachers cared."

"Yeah, like Billy Dresden," Greg said softly. "I wonder if he would have turned out differently if more of his teachers had really gotten to know him. Maybe they would have noticed his depression and anger. Maybe he would have felt safe talking about what the other boys were doing to him. Maybe he would have felt safe talking about what his dad was doing to him." He shrugged, even though he knew Eddie couldn't see him. "We'll never know, but I think it could have made all the difference in the world."

"You might be right."

Greg heard Sophie call out in the background. Ed's voice was suddenly muffled as he put his hand over the phone. "Just a second, Soph, I'll be right there." He spoke into the phone again. "Listen, Greg, I've got to go."

"No worries, buddy, go to your beautiful wife. Give her a kiss for me, okay?"

"You got it, Greg. Bye."

"Bye." Greg hung up the phone and laid it on the coffee table. He picked up the remote and switched on the TV, noticing that there was still a little over an hour before Lynn would be able to call him. He decided to watch some mindless show to waste time until she did.

The first show had ended and the second had just begun when his phone rang. He snatched it up from the table while he muted the television, and a thrill ran through his body when he saw that it was Lynn.

"Lynn," he breathed into the phone, and then his throat closed up, and he couldn't talk.

"Hey, there," he heard her say softly.

He had to swallow and clear his throat before he was able to respond. "How…how was your flight?"

"It was fine," she said. "I just got off the plane."

"Well, I'm glad you made it safely," Greg responded, and he felt like an idiot. They were making small talk when what he really wanted to do was jump through the phone, grab Lynn, and never let her go again, telling her over and over how much he loved her.

"Greg? Are you still there?"

He must have been silent longer than he had thought.

"Yes, I'm here. But…"

"But what?"

Greg sighed heavily and dropped his head. "But I really wish I was there, Lynn. I miss you so much already." His voice caught, and he cleared it again.

"I know, my love," Lynn whispered roughly, "I miss you, too – more than I thought was possible. If I could, I'd jump right back onto another plane and come back to you."

Greg could hear the tears in her voice, and felt his own eyes begin to burn. He closed them and breathed deeply. "I wish you could, sweetheart," he managed.

"I know, but we both know that it's just not possible right now."

Greg clenched his teeth together with the fury that suddenly filled him. God, this was so unfair! He had finally found someone he could trust with his heart, and circumstances ripped it right out of his chest, just as she was ripped away from him by their obligations.

Lynn interrupted his mental raging. "Darling, I have to go; I see my kids waiting for me," she said, her words thick with regret and anguish and tears.

He forced himself to relax before answering; it would not be fair to spew his anger out at her. This was not her fault – it was no one's fault – it was just the way things were.

"All right, my love. Call me as soon as you get home, okay?" Greg knew that she still had over two hundred miles to drive before reaching Grand Junction, and he wanted to be sure she got there safely.

"Of course I will," she answered. "Greg?"

"Yes, baby?"

"I love you. With all that I am."

Greg fought down tears as he whispered back, "I love you, too. With all that I am."

Neither of them wanted to say goodbye, so they stayed silent for a few moments and then he disconnected the call.

Greg dropped the phone on the table and leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes. He felt as if he were drowning, and there was no one who could help him. He was going to have to fight his way to the surface of his sorrow alone; he knew he couldn't keep bothering Eddie about this. As much as his friend loved him, he had his own life to live, and Greg had to figure out how to deal with his pain on his own. He breathed deeply as he tried to calm down, and eventually, he dozed off into a restless slumber.


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

After Lynn got safely home, she called Greg, but they were both so tired that the conversation only lasted a few minutes. They once again stated how much they missed each other, professed their love, and then disconnected.

Greg spent two weeks preparing for his classes at the college, and then courses began. When he arrived on campus the first Monday of classes, he could feel the excitement of the new students in the air and couldn't resist getting caught up in it himself. He quickly settled into the routine of the college, and he was so busy that the days flew by. He taught three courses: two in advanced negotiation techniques, and one in basic tactics. Dean was in one of his negotiation courses, and Greg was really appreciating teaching his son. He also had his responsibilities as Head Instructor. These included supervising all of the other instructors, especially the newer ones, and overseeing the physical requirements of the students. While he couldn't run the courses himself, he still felt a feeling of pride and accomplishment when a student beat a record or finished a task they had previously failed. After all, some of these young people would soon be policing his city shortly, and he was honored to be a part of their achievements.

It was the evenings that crept along.

Classes and meetings usually finished around four o'clock, and then Greg had about an hour of paperwork. He ate dinner in the college cafeteria, and then he went to his room in the faculty wing. The room wasn't much, rather like one in a decent hotel, but it was comfortable enough. The biggest problem was that the time in Toronto was two hours later than in Colorado. That meant that when Greg got to his room at six, it was still only four where Lynn was. She rarely got home before seven, so that meant he had three hours to waste. He spent a good portion of this time working out in the gym. Although he couldn't do everything he used to be able to, he still took pride in his appearance. One of the most disgraceful things he could think of was police officers who became complacent and let their bodies go to pot.

Greg had talked to his doctors extensively about which exercises he could do with the limitations on his leg. They said that he could not damage it further, but it simply would not have the range or strength it used to have. That actually heartened Greg to hear, and it was far from weak, so he simply modified his workouts to eliminate bikes and treadmills, instead using weights to work his legs. His upper body was still just as strong as it had always been, and he was proud of it. He rivaled many of the students when it came to strength, and, while he would never break any records, he was happy with the way things were – especially considering he was more than twice the age of most of the young people.

He could only work out so long, however, and so he had begun reading voraciously. He had never been much of a reader, but now he found that when he had a book that he enjoyed, he could easily get lost in it until it was time for Lynn to contact him. He really liked reading the classic authors, such as Fitzgerald, Hemingway, and Dickens, but he also rounded out his selections with non-fiction books on philosophy and current events.

Greg and Lynn had decided that she would be the one to initiate the contact each night, since she got off of work after him, and it was usually through Skype. Occasionally, she would be somewhere where she didn't have access to her computer, and on those nights it was a phone call, but that was rare. When the notification sound came from his computer, he would immediately drop whatever it was he was doing and quickly answer. Every time he saw her smiling face on his screen, he felt his heart tighten in his chest. He missed her desperately, and often told her so. She felt the same way, and, while they relished the discussions they had about their day and their friends and family, there was always an undercurrent of need and anguish beneath their words.

Their conversations lasted about two hours each night, and at the end, they left with what had become a signature farewell. They would each place their right hands over their hearts and then kiss the fingertips before placing them on the computer screens.

"I love you, Greg. With all that I am."

"And I love you, Lynn. With all that I am."

They would then close their screens together. They never said goodbye; it sounded too final.

He still drove to Toronto every Friday to meet with his friends, but the weekends were the worst. At least at the college, he had his work to occupy his time, but at home, there was not enough to do. He had students' work to grade and lessons to plan, and now his apartment was cleaner than it had been in years, and he had begun taking long walks around his neighborhood, but there were still far too many hours in the day. Lynn was much busier than he was on the weekends, and, although they spent hours on Skype, he still spent too much time staring at his walls, wishing she were with him. He truly looked forward to Mondays when he went back to the college, knowing that he would be too busy to constantly think about her.

Greg's days and nights followed this pattern for the next two months. Finally, it was the Friday before Thanksgiving, and he was standing in the Toronto airport, anxiously shifting his weight from foot to foot. He was empty-handed, and for a long while earlier in the day, he had worried that Lynn would be disappointed that he hadn't brought her flowers or candy or something, but he had finally decided that he wanted his hands free when he saw her. He was sure that if he had brought something, it would have instantly ended up on the floor anyway.

He hadn't used his credentials to bypass protocol this time, and so he waited in the same area where he had taken Lynn when her kids came to town. It was eleven o'clock at night, but Greg felt as energized as if he had just woken up after the best night's sleep of his life. Lynn's plane had landed half an hour ago, and she should be almost through customs. Greg could have sworn that the people around him should have been able to feel the nervous energy he felt was radiating off of him. There was a surprisingly large number of people waiting for passengers, considering how late it was, and the waiting area was not very large; it was rather crowded.

The seconds dragged on until Greg saw the first passenger enter the waiting area. The man was obviously not expecting anyone, for he went straight to the baggage claim without even scanning the crowd with his eyes. One after another, passengers walked through the door, none of them Lynn, until Greg knew that he would burst with impatience. Just as he was about to pull out his badge and demand entrance to customs, he saw her.

She came through the glass door, took a few steps forward, and stopped. Greg felt his breath catch, and he could not move. She was wearing a calf-length, forest green dress, belted at the waist with a wide black belt, and sensible flats. Her legs were encased in tights, and she carried a long black coat over her arm, along with her purse. She had never looked so beautiful to him, and he allowed his eyes to roam over her body, devouring the sight of her. Her blue eyes scanned the crowd expectantly, and when they found Greg's, a smile quickly spread across her face.

The smile caused Greg to expel his breath with a huff, and his muscles once again obeyed his brain. He swiftly moved toward her, rudely elbowing past other people, until he was in front of her. His momentum carried him into her, and he wrapped his arms around her, swinging her into his arms, crushing his mouth to hers. Their lips parted instantly, and their tongues began a passionate dance. Lynn had dropped her coat and purse as Greg advanced on her, and now her hands roamed over his back and shoulders, grasping and caressing him desperately. Greg still held onto his cane with the hand that was around Lynn's waist, but his other hand was buried in her curls as he held her tightly to him. After what seemed like a lifetime that was too short, Greg broke the kiss and set Lynn back on her feet. He didn't release her, however, and, with them both breathing heavily, he let his hand gently caress her face as his eyes did the same. Lynn's hand came up to his chest as she looked at him, and he grabbed it, bringing it to his lips to softly kiss her palm. He then held it to him as he pulled her close with his other hand.

"God, I missed you so much!" he whispered harshly, closing his eyes as he rested his cheek on her curls, once again inhaling the scent that meant only her, savoring the feel of her against him. He immediately felt himself begin to react, but he didn't move; he only breathed deeply and drew her to himself even tighter.

Lynn didn't speak, but Greg could feel her nod against his chest. With her free hand, she clung to the back of his jacket.

Greg didn't know how long they stood like that, but when he finally opened his eyes, he saw that there were only a few people left in the waiting area. He took a deep breath, kissed the top of Lynn's head, and slowly backed away until he could look down into Lynn's face. He was devastated when he saw tears on her cheeks, and he brought his thumb up to wipe them away.

"Don't cry, darling," he said softly.

A smile crossed her face as she responded, "Don't worry, Greg," she responded, "these are happy tears."

Greg returned the smile gratefully, gave Lynn a quick but sensual kiss, and released her. She leaned down and picked up her coat and purse. With their arms around each other, they walked to the baggage claim to pick up her suitcase. Lynn put on her coat, and the two left the terminal. A cold wind hit them as the door opened, and Lynn caught her breath.

"Wow! I'm glad you told me to dress warmly. It's still fall in Grand Junction."

A chuckle escaped Greg as he responded, "It's still fall here. If you think this is cold, wait until January."

Lynn shuddered, and Greg wasn't sure if it was because of the idea of January in Canada or the blast of cold wind that blew past them at that moment. Either way, she was right; it was cold, and he quickly steered her toward the parking lot.

When they got in his car, as soon as he started the engine and heater, Greg could not resist leaning over and once again claiming Lynn's lips with his own. Now that they had more privacy, he let his hands roam more freely, and he felt a jolt when he felt her do the same. He pulled back reluctantly and put the car in drive.

"I think we'd better get home," he said harshly.

"I agree," she whispered, giving his leg a squeeze.

He drove as quickly as possible back to his apartment. They made it to his door, leaving all of Lynn's things in the car, and Greg stood unlocking it with Lynn behind him, head on his back and both arms around him. His hands would not work correctly, and it took him a few tries to get the key to do its job, but when it did, he flung open the door, trapped both of Lynn's hands against him, and dragged her inside. He instantly spun around, Lynn still trapped behind him, and kicked the door shut. He then turned around, dropped his cane, and grabbed her arms. He slowly backed her up until she was against the arm of the couch. He felt a shudder flow through her, but she simply smiled up at him.

"I love you, Greg," she said thickly, her eyes sparkling with desire.

Greg simply groaned and pulled her in for an impassioned kiss. This time, they didn't make it to the bedroom before coming together and showing each other their love.

Resting on the couch afterwards, Greg's arms around Lynn, he suddenly realized that she was shaking slightly. He quickly sat up and held her away from him. He was horrified to see that she was crying.

"Lynn, sweetheart, what's the matter? Why are you crying?" He raised his hand to brush away the tears.

"Because that was so amazing. Everything feels right. I feel like I am right where I am supposed to be. Greg, I feel like I am home."

Greg softly gathered her into his arms. He moved until he was sitting up fully and pulled her onto his lap. He drew her to his chest and held her tightly, taking deep breaths to try to calm his racing heart. Her words had inflamed some powerful emotions in him – love, above all, but also joy and hope. One of his greatest fantasies late at night was when he asked her to stay in Toronto permanently, and she said yes. Her statement made him think that fantasy actually had a chance of coming true.

They stayed in that position until he realized that Lynn was drifting off to sleep. He chuckled, and this caused her to raise her head and look at him.

"What's so funny?" she said petulantly, her bottom lip sticking out slightly in a pout.

Greg laughed again and bent down to capture that lip between his. He gently sucked until she responded by kissing him back. This kiss was everything a kiss should be between two people who loved each other wholeheartedly – tender, caring, and yet still passionate.

He leaned back and said, "I think it's time to go to bed."

Lynn's eyes went wide as she realized she had almost fallen asleep on his lap, and then she smiled. "I think you're right." Then she frowned slightly.

"What is it?"

"All my stuff is still in the car," she said.

"Well," he responded, "I don't mind if you wear something of mine to bed. I can get your things in the morning."

She reached up to pull his head down for a kiss.

"I think that is a wonderful idea," she said sleepily, and, taking him by the hand, led him into his bedroom.

She climbed into the bed, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

"Are you sure you don't want to clean up first?" he asked, standing next to the bed.

"Too tired," she mumbled, grabbing his hand and pulling him down.

Greg smiled as he slid under the covers and gathered her to him. She sighed deeply and rested her head on his chest, falling asleep almost instantly. Greg was also tired, but he forced himself to stay awake, listening to Lynn breathe, feeling her warm breath on his chest, delighting in the weight of her body next to his. His last conscious thought before sleep claimed him was that he agreed with Lynn – this was right.


End file.
